From: Christim <Christim@mediaone.net>
Date: Thu, 18 Oct 2001 15:39:04 -0400
Subject: "Balance" By: Christi and Joanna
Source: direct

Part Five
Willow stood in the doorway of her new room, 
a skeptical look on her face. After a moment 
of studying the bare white walls and the 
simple bed, she turned to Nikita, who was 
looming behind her, and said, "You
Section people don't entertain much, do you?"
Nikita shrugged, still trying not to resent 
this girl who had been thrust so abruptly 
into her life. She didn't understand the 
preferential treatment Willow was receiving 
either. Usually operatives were not allowed 
out of Section for many months, and Willow 
was being given an apartment outside after a 
matter of weeks. Nikita was sure Madeleine 
and Operations had something sinister 
planned, and was wary about involving herself 
in it. Alex seemed to have unquestionably 
accepted the girl, however, and the least she 
could do was try to make the transition as 
painless as possible for all concerned.
"Come on, Willow," Nikita said, making a 
conscious effort to make her voice friendly. 
"We're going out."
Willow sat up and stared at her. "What do you 
mean?"
Nikita reached into her pocket and produced a 
hunk of cash. "We have to go shopping."
Willow perked up. "For my room?"
"Clothes."
Willow frowned. "I have...some...clothes."
Nikita just stared at her, expressionless. 
Willow stared back at her, and for a moment 
they stayed like that. Then Willow burst into 
laughter and stood. "Let's go then."
As they headed out of the apartment building 
and down the London street, Willow wondered 
to herself, "Where exactly do you shop? 
Leather-R-Us? DtAC?"
"DtAC?" Nikita questioned dryly, and only 
then did Willow realize she had been speaking 
aloud.
The red head blushed a bright red and 
mumbled, "Death to All Cows."
Nikita stopped and stared at the young girl 
for a moment, then to Willow's great surprise 
she burst into laughter. As Willow watched 
incredulously, Nikita laughed harder than she 
had in a long time. "You're a strange girl," 
she informed Willow.
			*			*		
	*
Buffy paced around Giles' small apartment, 
talking to Cordelia through the speakerphone 
in the middle of the room. Giles was standing 
in a corner listening to the conversation 
intently, while Xander kept sitting on the 
counter and then jumping off and pacing 
around restlessly. Riley simply leaned 
against of the wall of the room, watching 
because he didn't know what to do.
"Cordelia, that's impossible," Buffy said for 
the fifth time that evening. "Willow's dead. 
We saw the store blow up!"
"But did you ever see her body?" Cordelia's 
voice pointed out. 
"The remains were too burned to positively 
identify. They had to use her dental 
records!"
"Which could have been faked," interrupted 
Angel's voice.
"Why would anyone bother?" Yelled Buffy.
"I don't know!" Cordelia yelled back. "But I 
know what I saw. I saw Willow. Alive."
"Well, if she's alive, we have to find her!" 
Pointed out Xander. "She might be in danger."
"Well...she looked kinda happy to me."
"Yeah. Right. If this is true, she's been 
forcibly taken away from her friends. I'm 
sure she's having the time of her life," said 
Xander.
"But you're saying she looked alright?" Giles 
asked, cutting in himself. "She wasn't 
injured or restrained in any way?"
"No. She was working at a computer and 
hugging a really hot guy, smiling at 
another...she was happy."
"The last few weeks before she died, I didn't 
really see much of her. But from the little I 
remember, she seemed very preoccupied with 
something."
"She said that she had found something 
interesting on the computer that was keeping 
her busy," Xander informed his friends.
"Maybe she got too close to something big. 
Willow couldn't have known exactly what she 
was tracking until it was too late."
"And some weird agency abducted her?" Buffy 
said skeptically. "This is sounding out 
there, even for us."
"Xander's right. If there's any chance that 
Willow could be alive, we have to try and 
find her," said Angel from the phone. "We'll 
work out here, and you start poking around 
there. Find someone to go through her
computer, maybe find a trail she left that 
might clue us in as to what her little 
project actually involved."
			*			*		
	*
Nikita tossed yet another leather coat over 
the door to the dressing room Willow stood 
in. "Here, try this," the blond said.
Willow paled slightly. "Nikita...I've already 
tried on three leather jackets."
"But this one's the right size," Nikita said 
reasonably.
"Oh," Willow said skeptically, looking at the 
tight-looking jacket. "I guess that makes 
sense..."
She pulled on the coat, then studied herself 
in the mirror doubtfully. "I don't think 
leather is really my style, Nikita."
"That's the point."
Nikita tossed a handful of shirts over the 
door. "Try these."
Willow sorted through the new items, absently 
pushing her newly trimmed hair out of her 
eyes. Her hair was again about the length it 
had been her senior year of high school, 
which was a relief considering how much she 
had hated the short haircut. Nikita's choice 
of clothes included several tube and tank 
tops, leather jackets, skirts, and pants, and 
a lot of black. Willow sighed and took off 
the jacket, pulling on a black tank top that 
laced all the way up the back. 
"Um...Nikita...this doesn't have a back."
"I know. Come out, let me see it with the 
pants I picked out."
Willow had some trouble putting on the tight 
leather pants, but finally managed to pull 
them up. She regarded her reflection in the 
mirror yet again before shaking her head. 
"No. Nope. Not gonna happen. I'm not coming 
out of this room. I look ridiculous."
Nikita sighed and rolled her eyes. "Stop 
being such a baby."
"I am not being a baby!" Willow said 
indignantly. Reluctantly, she opened the door 
to the dressing room, glaring at Nikita for 
putting her in this situation. The last time 
she had looked like this, she was 
impersonating the evil, psychotic, vampire 
version of herself from another dimension, 
and she really didn't want to relive that 
experience. Besides, she really did look 
silly in this get-up.
Nikita's eyes lit up when she caught sight of 
Willow. The girl looked amazing. Leather was 
definitely her. She couldn't wait to see 
Birkoff's expression when he saw this.
"Perfect!" Nikita exclaimed, ignoring 
Willow's less than enthusiastic expression. 
"We're definitely getting that outfit. Now, 
just a couple more hours, and we should have 
enough to last you for awhile."
Two hours later, the two new friends walked 
out of the store weighted down with bags and 
boxes. Although Willow still had many 
reservations about most of the items they had 
purchased, Nikita's enthusiasm was contagious 
and the guy who had tried to pick her up 
while she was modeling one of the outfits for 
Nikita hadn't hurt her confidence level.
They turned the corner and entered another 
store that Nikita assured her would have good 
things to decorate her bedroom with. They 
were quickly becoming good friends, and 
Nikita seemed to have accepted her as a 
little sister type figure, saying that she 
was going to make Willow train and learn how 
to fight. Willow mentioned that Alex had 
offered the same and Nikita grinned, 
declaring that between the two of them she'd 
be as good as a Level Three Field Agent in no 
time. If Willow were anyone else, she would 
have been daunted by what lay ahead of her...
			*			*		
	*
Methos was once again taking a midnight 
stroll through the streets of Sunnydale. He 
found that something about this place let him 
think, and considering the information he had 
obtained from the police database only a few 
hours before, he had plenty to think about.
He had hacked into the files concerning the 
death of the girl Willow Rosenburg. What he 
found had disturbed him. The case had been 
investigated to the very limits of what the 
city's meager police force could handle, and 
the results had been recorded. All of the 
evidence pointed to a simple gas leak that 
had ignited and caused the building to blow 
up. Simple and clean-cut. But maybe that was 
what was bothering him about it...it seemed 
almost too easy.
Just then, he was forced to stop his fast 
pace as he found himself facing three very 
large vampires. He smiled. "I don't want any 
trouble," he said to the stupid creatures in 
a pacifying voice.
"Well, it seems you've got some," one of the 
thugs growled, smirking.
"If you say so," Methos replied, drawing his 
sword. The vampires started in surprise, and 
the leader spared a moment to wonder where 
the sword had been hidden, before he shrugged 
off the thought, and motioned his gang to 
attack. They predictably all went straight 
for the throat, and Methos laughed, dodging 
their feeble attempts as he swung the sword 
in an easy back-handed gesture, circling 
around the two remaining vampires as the 
third exploded into dust.
"Hey," one said, surprised. "How'd you do 
that?"
"Like this," Methos replied, and poof, the 
vampire was gone.
Methos turned and faced the leader of the 
group, who was staring at him, wide-eyed. 
After a moment, the vampire turned and ran 
back the way he had come, tripping over his 
own feet. Methos smirked for a moment, then 
put his sword back with a flourish. He turned 
suddenly, sure that he had heard a sound, but 
saw no one and after a moment of studying the 
terrain of the alley, shrugged and kept 
walking, resuming his musings about the death 
of the girl.
Xander huddled in the corner of the alley, 
ignoring the stench of the trashcans he was 
surrounded by, and watched the man he knew as 
Professor Pierson walk away. He had been on 
his way home from work, armed with holy water 
squirt guns and a very large cross, when he 
had seen the scene between the professor and 
the three vampires. How had he known how to 
kill them? Why did he carry around a sword? 
The ease with which he had decapitated the 
vampires also worried Xander. He came to a 
decision and stood, heading for Giles' 
apartment.
			*			*		
	*
Alex opened the door to the apartment he 
shared with Birkoff, closing it behind him 
with a weary sigh. It had been over a week 
since he had been in the area, and as much as 
he would have liked to be there to help take 
care of Birkoff, Madeline had sent him on an 
operation in Moscow. Because of his fluent 
Russian, it had been easy to insert him into 
what remained of the KGB, and from there, to 
the Russian counterparts of the conspiracy 
that was centered in the Western Hemisphere.
He had rushed the job a bit, and he was sure 
Madeline would have words with him about that 
later, but he had achieved all of his 
objectives, and had taken only one week out 
of the two that had been projected for the 
assignment. He had been debriefed by 
Operations, and he was impatient enough to 
have been pleased by the rush job. Alex knew 
that when Madeline got her claws into him, 
however, he would regret having been in such 
a hurry.
Walking from the front hall into the living 
room, he had a bit of a shock. He was tempted 
to go back out into the hallway to check the 
number again, because the apartment had 
certainly changed a lot. There was...color. The 
plain, utilitarian couch had several, 
attractive, bright colored blankets thrown 
over the back, along with matching pillows. 
There were bright rugs scattered over the 
plain wood floors, and several of the 
previously blank walls had cheerful art 
prints hanging on them.
Dropping his bag on a table by the couch, he 
headed into the kitchen, wondering what 
surprises he would find there. The first 
thing he noticed was that all the walls had 
been painted. They were a light green shade, 
and he noticed absently that it went very 
well with the austere black appliances that 
had been provided by Section when he had 
moved into this place. He opened the 
refrigerator and did a double take. There 
was...food. In his refrigerator.
"I didn't even know Birkoff knew how to 
shop," Alex muttered under his breath, 
bemused.
"I don't," Birkoff's voice said groggily from 
the doorway.
"Hi," Alex said, his face lighting up. "How 
are you feeling? And what are you doing out 
of bed?"
"I'm much better," Birkoff said plaintively, 
wincing at the stern tone Alex had taken at 
the end of his greeting. "I'm tired of lying 
in bed all day. Willow won't even let me near 
a computer."
Alex couldn't help but smile at the younger 
man. Birkoff probably had no idea how close 
he had come to a whine there. "The vacation 
is probably good for you."
"Yeah, that's what she says," he muttered 
resentfully.
"Want some orange juice?"
"God no," Birkoff said with a shudder. "That 
and chicken soup are all that she lets me 
have. That girl is a tyrant, I'm telling you! 
She said I wasn't eating right, so she asked 
Madeline for some money. Apparently Madeline 
agreed, because she gave Willow access to a 
bank account. Ever since, every time she's 
come over, she's brought something new to 
leave over here. I can barely even recognize 
the place anymore! She's changing everything 
around. It used to be nice and simple. Look! 
Look at this!"
Alex watched his young friend rant and move 
about the apartment frantically. He 
definitely had a fever. This was over the 
top, even for the excitable Birkoff.
"See this vase!?"
"I see it," Alex said, confused. "What 
exactly is wrong with the vase?"
"It serves no purpose! All it does is sit 
there!"
"Um...I think that's what vases usually do."
"Exactly!" Birkoff said, pouncing on this 
statement. "That's why we didn't have any. 
They don't do anything. They're not good for 
anything. There is absolutely no reason 
whatsoever to have one, and now all of a 
sudden, we do! What has happened?"
"I think you need to calm down, and get back 
into bed," Alex said placatingly. "I'm sure 
the vase will be less offensive in the 
morning."
"You don't understand," Birkoff said, 
crestfallen. "You haven't been stuck with a 
cheery, optimistic, infuriating red-head as 
your only company for a whole week. You don't 
know what I've been through."
"Get some rest, Brat. I kind of like the new 
apartment."
"Not you too," Birkoff groaned, as he crawled 
into bed. Alex tucked the covers around him, 
then sat on the edge of the bed. "So, how'd 
the mission go?"
"Not so bad," Alex said, recognizing the 
change of subject, but willing to indulge 
him. "No one really has any idea what my 
allegiances are on the outside, so I can play 
them all off of each other with relative 
ease. So...what do you really think of Willow?"
Birkoff opened his mouth to answer that with 
another indignant comment, but just then they 
were interrupted by the sound of the 
apartment door opening. Immediately, Alex had 
a gun out, and was moving to the door, ready 
for an attack on the two of them.
"Birkoff!" The cheerful voice of Willow could 
be heard from the doorway. "I brought you 
some fresh juice!"
Alex put the gun away, as Birkoff rolled his 
eyes. He moved out into the living room, 
leaving Birkoff tucked in bed. At the sight 
of Willow, he stopped dead in his tracks.
"Pumpkin?" Alex was lost, not sure if this 
was the same girl he left a week ago, or if 
she had somehow been replaced by a clone or 
some other plot.
Willow squealed, and raced over to Alex, 
throwing her arms around him in an exuberant 
hug. He awkwardly patted her back, not sure 
how to deal with this. He finally got control 
of the situation, and held her back away from 
him at arm's length. "What are you wearing?"
"Oh, this," Willow said, making a face. 
"Nikita picked it out. Isn't it dumb? I look 
ridiculous."
"No," Alex protested. "You look great. The 
leather's a nice look for you."
Birkoff, still lying in the other room, 
straining to hear the conversation, raised 
his eyebrows at this comment. Leather?
"Well, I feel silly," Willow said 
plaintively.
"I've told you a thousand times, you don't 
look silly," Nikita said, coming through the 
door. "I've told her this so many times even 
I'm tired of hearing it, but she just won't 
listen. The girl's had them for a week, but 
it's taken me this long to even get her to 
wear them out of her room. We thought a trip 
over here would be good for a trial run. 
Plus, Willow insisted Birkoff needed more 
juice."
"It's fresh squeezed," Willow said 
defensively. "He's probably drunk all of the 
juice I brought him last time."
She opened the door to the refrigerator, and 
her eyebrows snapped together at the sight of 
a half-drunk bottle of orange juice sitting 
on the shelf. She calmly set the new bottle 
of juice on the shelf, and shut the door just 
a little bit too hard. It still made Alex 
wince inwardly, as she turned towards the 
room where Birkoff was lying. Oh boy.
Birkoff sat up on the bed, knowing as soon as 
he heard the door to the fridge opening that 
he was in trouble. Sure, she had told him to 
drink the whole thing, and that it was good 
for him, but he just...hadn't been thirsty. 
Willow stormed through the door to his 
bedroom, and immediately began telling him in 
no uncertain terms why exactly he had been 
supposed to drink the juice, what he was 
doing to his health by ignoring her, and how 
exactly that made her feel. Birkoff didn't 
hear a word of it, however. As soon as he 
caught sight of her, he was mesmerized.
He had never seen her look so...incredible. She 
was wearing skin-tight, black leather pants 
that hugged her hips. Above that was a low 
cut, shiny green shirt that brought out her 
eyes, and somehow made the red color of her 
hair more intense. She was wearing a small, 
delicate silver necklace that had a star 
design on it, with matching silver bracelets. 
She was wearing some kind of make-up that was 
understated, yet managed to make her seem 
luminescent. Her hair was feathered around 
her face, not pulled back into the rough 
ponytail she usually adopted when coming over 
to his place.
Finally, the dumb-founded, blank expression 
on Birkoff's face penetrated Willow's rant, 
and she fell silent, puzzled. Usually he was 
much more attentive while she was telling him 
off. He must have a fever, she thought, 
abruptly switching gears from angry to 
concerned. She rushed over to his side, 
putting her hand on his forehead, asking him 
if he was all right, and how did he feel? All 
Birkoff could do was stare at her, 
incoherent.
"Drink this," she said, pressing a glass of 
juice into his hand. Never taking his eyes 
off of her, he absent-mindedly drained the 
glass, handing it back to her wordlessly. 
Willow smiled encouragingly at him, and 
patted him on the head. "Now get some rest. 
I'm sure you're worn out."
Birkoff nodded numbly, and obeyed. Willow 
watched as he lay back down again, and closed 
his eyes. As soon as she turned her back to 
walk out of the room, though, his eyes popped 
back open, and he watched her leave. Nikita 
and Alex, who had been watching the scene 
from the doorway, jumped away quickly when it 
looked like Willow was coming back out again. 
They looked at each other, and at the eye 
contact, immediately started giggling. Poor 
kids, they thought, shaking their heads and 
laughing. They had no idea what they were 
getting into.
			*			*		
	*
The three men stared at Mulder and Scully as 
the pair finished telling them what had 
happened to them when they hadn't shown up 
for dinner. They had a rational explanation 
for everything that had alarmed the Gunmen, 
and were almost convincing. The three had too 
much practice at being paranoid, however, and 
exchanged glances once Mulder had finished 
his story of a case that came up unexpectedly 
and they had to leave town on short notice. 
When confronted with her badge that she had 
dropped, Scully came up with some lame excuse 
that had neither Frohike, Byers, nor Langley 
fooled.
"...And then we caught a plane back to D.C. and 
came to see you guys as soon as we landed. 
We're sorry we didn't get a hold of you to 
let you know about the change of plans, but 
we were really busy with the case," Mulder 
said, looking at the men out of the corner of 
his eye to see if they were buying it.
Mulder felt pretty bad about deceiving his 
friends, but Krycek had made it very clear 
what would happen to anyone who found out 
about where they had been. Mulder and Scully 
had actually got back to Washington a few 
days ago, but it had taken them this long to 
make up a believable story about where they 
had been. He had even used the cell-phone 
Willow had given to Scully to contact Krycek 
and ask for some documentation to make their 
story more believable. He knew that the 
paranoid men would be checking their 
background for plane tickets and such to see 
if they were telling the truth, and Mulder 
wanted to protect them from this particular 
truth.
"So...you guys just went on a case?" Langley 
asked, wanting to make things absolutely 
clear.
"Yes," Mulder confirmed, somewhat nervously.
"And...you weren't abducted by a shadowy 
government agency?"
"No," Scully said, much more firm and 
convincing than her partner.
"And...the fact that our computer was raided 
the same night as you went missing and all of 
our evidence was stolen was just a 
coincidence?"
"That's right."
The three men exchanged glances again, while 
Mulder and Scully sat, uncomfortably aware 
that Krycek was monitoring every word of this 
conversation.
"Just checking," Frohike said, finally, in a 
casual tone of voice.
			*			*		
	*
The Scooby gang sat around Giles' apartment, 
all silent and deep in thought. "So, we have 
a professor who is not exactly just a 
professor," said Giles.
"Yes," Xander confirmed.
"And a girl who may or may not be dead."
"Right."
"And Adam."
"Actually," Buffy said. "He seems to have 
disappeared. He's either being way too quiet 
or he's moved on."
"Neither possibility is very comforting," 
Riley pointed out.
"But he's not our top priority right now," 
Buffy insisted. "Willow is, or at least might 
be. Followed by the possible threat of this 
professor guy who fights with a sword."
"A sword?" A voice questioned from the door. 
They all turned and glared at the blond 
vampire who stood there.
"Spike! What are you doing here?" Giles 
asked.
Spike shrugged. "I was bored. I thought an 
episode of the petty trials of the Slayer and 
her minions might cheer me up. So, you say 
this bloke fought with a sword?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but 
yeah," Xander said. "About a week ago, he 
decapitated two vampires and sent the third 
running."
Spike grinned. "Decapitated, huh?" He sat 
down on the couch and ignoring the glares, 
stretched out. "Sounds like an Immortal to 
me."
			*			*		
	*
Willow punched and kicked the bag in front of 
her with all she had, sweat trickling down 
her back. Loud rock music was playing from 
the stereo system nearby, and it helped her 
keep the rhythm of the exercises Alex and 
Nikita had created for her. She was really 
starting to regret being on Nikita's good 
side. It had been two weeks since they had 
become friends, and the very next day Nikita 
had gotten together with Alex and created one 
of the most demanding exercise routines they 
could come up with, making her practice 
several hours a day, supervising at least an 
hour or two. Although she could already see 
the progress she was making, it was hard 
work.
The music ended and Willow finished her last 
roundhouse kick with a flourish, breathing a 
sigh of relief. Shaking her muscles out, she 
walked across the small room and picked up a 
towel and a thermos, guzzling the water in 
the container and mopping the sweat off her 
forehead. She turned into the shower rooms 
and emerged half an hour later, feeling much 
better. As she walked down the hallway, she 
heard a voice from behind her call out, 
"Maybe there is some hope for you after all. 
Those exercises are starting to pay off."
"Yeah, well, with Alex and Nikita as my 
personal trainers, I was bound to improve," 
Willow said, turning to meet Samantha with a 
grin. "So, what are you doing this afternoon? 
I had some free time, and I was looking for 
something to do. Wanna hang out?"
"I don't have any assignments at the moment," 
Samantha said in a somewhat confused voice. 
"I have some Sims I really should work 
through, but nothing urgent. What do you 
mean...hang out?"
Willow rolled her eyes. "Go out. Maybe walk 
around, grab something to eat, go shopping. 
Talk. That sort of thing. I have to drop by 
Birkoff and Alex's place later, but you can 
come along."
"What's the point?" Samantha asked, genuinely 
trying to understand this strange girl. "I 
mean, how would this improve us or accomplish 
anything useful?"
Willow sighed, then walked over to the girl 
and explained patiently, "It doesn't. It's 
just...fun. Don't you ever have fun?"
"Successfully completing a mission I have 
been assigned is fun I guess," Samantha said 
doubtfully. "I like it when I do a good job 
and Madeline is pleased with me."
"You need a hobby. Not to mention a new role 
model. Come on," Willow said, grabbing the 
other girl's hand. Samantha allowed herself 
to be dragged out of Section and into 
downtown London, wondering what this odd girl 
was going to do next. Willow paused and 
looked around admiringly. "London is a cool 
place. There's all sorts of stuff to do here. 
Haven't you ever explored the city?"
"No, I've never been on a mission here."
Willow made an exasperated sound in the back 
of her throat, then smiled. "That's not what 
I meant."
"I do understand that other people do things 
for fun, you know," Samantha said, starting 
to get a bit irritated. "I just don't know 
what you think that has to do with me. 
Section is my life. I don't need anything 
else."
"You're an eighteen year old girl. Of course 
you need more than Section. You just don't 
think you do."
For the rest of the afternoon Willow 
attempted to show Samantha exactly what she 
had been missing in the real world. After 
buying a disposable camera from a corner drug 
store, she took Samantha to the Tower of 
London, but Samantha remained unimpressed by 
its history.
"Our methods of information extraction are 
more efficient," Samantha commented.
"It was a hundred years ago, Sam. They didn't 
have Madeline's creepy little toys back then. 
Ooh, hot dogs on a stick!"
Willow ran to a vendor and purchased two hot 
dogs from the man there then ran back to 
Samantha. "Here, eat this," she said, handing 
one to her.
"What's it made of?" Samantha asked, looking 
at the hot dog, and handling it warily.
"No one knows!" Willow said cheerfully.
"Then why are you eating it?" She asked, 
appalled.
"It's good. I like them. Go on, eat it."
Seeing that Willow was having no immediate 
reaction to the food, Samantha carefully took 
a small bite. Finding that she actually kind 
of liked it, she attempted a larger one. 
"It's not too bad," she admitted reluctantly.
Willow grinned triumphantly, then offered her 
a small paper cup filled with a strange red 
paste-like substance. "Ketchup?"
"No thanks," Samantha said, not wanting to 
push her luck. "I'm fine like this."
They finished their hot dogs and headed down 
the street, arriving just in time to catch a 
double-decker bus that was heading across 
town. Willow dragged Samantha onto the 
vehicle and up to the top level, pointing out 
all the different historical sites, and when 
they finally got off, they were close to Big 
Ben, so they took a detour to see the clock.
"That's a big clock," Willow said as she 
stared up at it.
"It's a very inefficient design," Samantha 
said disapprovingly. "They should tear it 
down and build a new one."
An elderly woman who was a native to London 
and took its history very seriously happened 
to hear her comment. Stalking over to where 
the girls were still standing gazing up at 
the clock, she whacked Samantha on the arm 
with her bag of oranges.
"Ow!" Samantha yelled, startled. She stopped 
herself from striking out just in time, and 
just stood there staring at the short, fuming 
old woman.
"You young people never take history 
seriously!" She proceeded to holler at her. 
"Think you can do better, huh?! That clock 
has been standing for centuries, and you want 
to tear it down for something more 
'efficient'? Just another example of the 
downfall of our society! No one's in touch 
with their roots anymore. What about the 
beauty of the design, huh? What about that? 
Not to mention all the aspects of life in 
this city that clock has witnessed."
"It's an inanimate object," Samantha cut in 
sullenly. "It can't witness anything."
"Don't interrupt your elders!" The irate 
woman said, whacking Samantha with her bag 
again. This time Willow was more prepared, 
and snapped off a quick picture, catching it 
on film. Fortunately, they were both too 
absorbed in each other to notice. Willow 
didn't even want to know how Samantha would 
have reacted to that. Probably snatched the 
camera from her and yanked out all the film, 
Willow mused.
"And furthermore," the woman continued her 
lecture, "I think you should show a little 
more respect to those who are older than you 
young lady! Your manners are appalling! What 
were you, raised in a barn?"
Samantha was tempted to point out that she 
had in actuality been raised by a secret 
anti-terrorist organization that would stop 
at nothing to achieve its goals, but squashed 
the impulse, blaming it on Willow's 
influence.
Finally, the woman got tired of her tirade, 
and with a final shouted comment that was 
unintelligible, but sounded bad, stalked off, 
muttering to herself. Samantha stood there, 
and Willow thought she looked somewhat in 
shock. Not sure exactly what she had done to 
deserve that, Samantha was just standing 
there trying to figure out what had just 
happened, when a sound intruded into her 
thoughts. Looking over at Willow, she saw 
that the girl had her hand over her mouth and 
was trying to stifle her giggles.
"That wasn't funny!" Samantha said 
indignantly, trying to hide a grin herself.
Willow gave up and burst into giggles. "Are 
you kidding? It was hilarious! Big, bad 
Section agent Samantha was just assaulted by 
a little old lady! You should have seen your 
face!"
"Oh really," Samantha said, a dangerous gleam 
appearing in her eye as she began to stalk 
towards Willow. "Thought that was funny, did 
you?"
Willow's eyes widened a bit, but she remained 
where she was. "You know Samantha, attacking 
your friends isn't going to make you very 
popular."
"Ah, but I got into your file, I know all of 
your weaknesses. For example, if you touch 
your sides and apply a certain type of 
pressure, I hear it evokes the most 
interesting response."
Now Willow looked a little panicked. "You're 
threatening to tickle me! You...you...not nice 
person!"
"Hey, it seemed like you were having a good 
time laughing just a second ago," Samantha 
said, suddenly dashing towards Willow.
Willow let out a squeal and jumped back, 
turning around and sprinting towards 
Birkoff's apartment, Samantha close behind. 
They ran three blocks and up two flights of 
stairs into the apartment, Willow slamming 
open the door and bolting into the living 
room. "BIRKOFF!" She screamed. "HELP!"
Birkoff came out of his room, rubbing his 
eyes. Willow saw him and darted behind him, 
clutching his shoulders tightly as Samantha 
followed her into the room and headed 
straight for her. As Birkoff watched, 
confused, Samantha chased Willow around the 
room, both of them laughing. Samantha finally 
caught up with Willow somewhere around the 
couch and they both fell onto the piece of 
furniture in a flurry of moving hands and 
high pitched squeals. Five minutes later, 
they seemed to wind down, both stopping and 
sitting up, laughing as they tried to get 
their breath back.
"Well what do you know, the infallible 
Section agent is ticklish too!" Willow 
exclaimed.
"Am not!" Samantha denied emphatically.
Willow's hand shot out and tickled her side 
and Samantha burst into another round of 
giggles. "Yeah. Sure you're not."
Birkoff watched this scene with wide eyes, 
not sure if this was reality, or some 
hallucination brought on by a new fever. 
Samantha finally seemed to register his 
presence and stopped laughing abruptly, 
straightening up on the couch, and looking 
uncomfortable about her display of 
childishness.
Willow realized what had happened and sighed, 
standing up and walking over to Birkoff, 
looking at him tenderly. "How are you 
feeling?"
Birkoff was still dazed and the fact that she 
was dressed in one of her new outfits didn't 
help matters. The black tank top she had on 
didn't appear to have a back besides the 
strings that criss-crossed each other, and 
her black drawstring pants hung low on her 
hips revealing a strip of skin. "Um...much 
better," he finally managed to choke out. He 
was rewarded with a grin.
"Good. You'll be glad to know that you're not 
having chicken soup for dinner. I'm gonna 
make macaroni and cheese for the three of us. 
Oh, Birkoff, do you know Samantha?"
"Sort of. Hi," he greeted the girl.
"Hello," she responded somewhat coldly. "It's 
nice to meet you."
Birkoff regarded her outstretched hand, then 
took it. They exchanged an impersonal 
handshake, then neither seemed sure what to 
do with themselves. Willow watched the 
exchange and then rolled her eyes. "You two 
are hopeless. Do you ever act like normal 
people?"
"What's normal?" Birkoff asked 
expressionlessly.
Willow opened her mouth to respond, then shut 
it when she thought of what she and her old 
friends from Sunnydale had been involved in. 
Well, maybe that wasn't such a good example. 
She finally settled for saying, "Well, not 
this."
"That clears it right up, thanks," Birkoff 
said snarkily.
"What's macaroni and cheese?" Samantha asked 
curiously.
"My God," was Willow's only answer.
Twenty minutes later, Willow, Birkoff, and 
Samantha all sat around the kitchen table 
with bowls of homemade macaroni and cheese in 
front of them. Willow dug in with her fork, 
sighing contentedly when the yellowish pasta 
substance entered her mouth. "I've missed 
this stuff to no end," she explained as she 
continued eating.
Birkoff and Samantha exchanged looks, but 
neither were willing to have Willow mad at 
them, so they caught a couple of noodles up 
onto their forks and ate them slowly. For a 
couple of seconds they chewed slowly, but 
Samantha found that she actually liked the 
way this stuff tasted too. For his part, 
Birkoff was so relieved to actually be eating 
solid food that he didn't really even care 
what it tasted like.
They emptied the entire pot of pasta, both 
Samantha and Birkoff having seconds. Willow 
was pleased with them and she was even 
happier when they managed to sit around the 
table and have a half-normal conversation. 
But half an hour later, Birkoff's eyes were 
drooping and Samantha was loosing interest. 
Willow sighed, then took Birkoff by the hand 
and led him to his room, tucking him into bed 
and sitting next to him. "You've been 
drinking your juice."
"After what happened last time, I didn't dare 
not to," he said. She smiled.
"'Night Birkoff," she said, leaning over and 
giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Sleep 
well."
She stood and left, a wide-eyed Birkoff 
behind her.
Part Six
Willow lit the candle in front of her and 
couldn't help but smile when the familiarity 
of the action sunk in. Between her duties at 
Section and Nikita and Alex's training 
sessions, she hadn't had time to keep up with 
Wicca, but it was Samhain, so she had made a 
special effort to get all the essentials for 
a basic ceremony, not wanting to lose touch 
with the religion.
She bowed before the white and black candles 
and then settled back onto her knees. After 
casting the circle and acknowledging the 
guardians of each compass point, she began 
the chant she had prepared for the occasion.
The words flowed out of her faster and 
faster, and before she knew what was 
happening, the flames on the candles had 
grown and the lights had gone out. She 
stopped chanting, but the power in the room 
remained.
Using it, she reached out with her mind and 
picked up several of the objects around the 
room-a book, a dirty shirt, and a pillow, 
making them fly around the small space.
Nikita entered her apartment, expecting to 
find Willow sitting in the living room 
studying one of the manuals from Section, or 
another Russian language text from Alex, as 
she usually did at this hour. Instead, as 
Nikita reached out and flicked the switch for 
the light, nothing happened. Something must 
have happened to short the electricity out, 
she reasoned. Seeing a flickering light 
emanating from Willow's room, she headed in 
that direction, figuring that with the power 
out, Willow would have lit some candles.
Nikita opened the door to Willow's room, then 
after only a moment, shut it again, eyes 
wide. Shaking her head and taking a deep 
breath, she re-opened the door only to see 
exactly what she had seen before-Willow 
laughing as a shirt, a pillow, and a book 
flew across the room. Not knowing what to do, 
she cleared her throat. Willow jumped, 
startled, and the items dropped onto the 
floor abruptly. "Nikita!" The young girl 
exclaimed. "What are you doing here? You're 
supposed to be on for another hour!"
"Finished early," Nikita replied, slightly 
dazed. "Do you mind if I ask what you're 
doing?"
"Um...I'm not sure you'd believe me," Willow 
answered hesitantly.
"Willow, I just saw inanimate objects fly 
around by themselves. Now is probably the 
best time to get me to listen to weird 
stuff."
Willow nodded. "Wait a sec, let me finish 
up."
As Nikita watched, Willow bowed to the 
candles in front of her and said a few words. 
When she was finished, the candles put out 
themselves and the light flickered back on. 
Willow stood, then took Nikita's hand and led 
her to the bed, sitting on it. "Well..." she 
started slowly, "I was celebrating. It's a 
holiday."
"Halloween?"
Willow rolled her eyes. "Yeah right. No, 
Samhain. It's a Wiccan holiday."
"Huh?"
"I'm a Witch."
"I see."
"Is this going to be a problem with Section? 
I didn't tell anyone because I wasn't sure 
how you guys would take it. I mean, the 
people there don't seem all that open-minded 
about stuff like that."
"In the first place, I don't think you're 
ever going to find a place more open-minded 
than Section where it comes to your personal 
life. As long as it doesn't affect your 
efficiency level or anyone else's you can 
pretty much do anything you want. In the 
second, I wouldn't assume that Madeline and 
Operations don't already know about it. 
They're like that."
"True. So it shouldn't be a problem with 
them. But what about you?"
"Well, it was kind of a shock. I never 
thought any of that stuff was actually for 
real. I try never to be ruled by prejudice, 
but this is a little much. Maybe if I knew a 
little more about what you're doing here?"
Willow took a deep breath, then proceeded to 
give Nikita a crash-course in Wicca. Half an 
hour later, Nikita still sat on the bed, a 
slightly dumbfounded look on her face. Then a 
grin slowly spread over her face. "So...you can 
cast spells on other people? Like love 
spells? Because there are these two people in 
COMM that would be so cute together..." She 
stopped when she noticed Willow's head 
shaking emphatically.
"Oh no! No, no, no! I don't go near love 
spells. They're very dangerous things. They 
never turn out the way you want them to. Like 
this one time with Xander...well, it was a 
mess. Ended badly for all involved. And it 
took us forever to find Buffy so we could de-
rat her."
"What...never mind. I don't think I really want 
to know."
Willow grinned. "That's one thing I feel 
really guilty about leaving behind. Amy's 
still a rat." At Nikita's slightly frightened 
look, she attempted to reassure her friend. 
"Oh, I didn't do it! She did it to herself, 
to get away from the mob that was trying to 
burn us at the stake...but you probably don't 
want to know about that either."
"I think I've heard enough for one night. I 
really need to get some sleep and try to 
absorb all of this. It kind of caught me off 
guard here."
"Probably. Good night."
Nikita nodded and stood, going out the door. 
A minute later, her head poked back into the 
room. "Wait...did you say burned at the stake?"
			*			*		
	*
MacLeod hung up the phone a little harder 
than necessary, cursing softly in Gaelic 
under his breath. Glaring at Amanda, who sat 
nearby at his computer, he stalked over to 
her.
"This is a useless waste of time!" MacLeod 
growled.
"Oh come on, MacLeod," Amanda wheedled. "It's 
a mystery. Don't you think it's kind of 
exciting?"
"We've been trying to track down Methos most 
recent hiding place for the past three months 
with no sign of him! You've got to face it 
Amanda, he's too sneaky. We won't find him 
until he's ready to be found."
"I refuse to accept that. I've been bored the 
past year. I need an adventure to keep me 
occupied since you won't let me steal 
anymore. That's a real joy-kill by the way."
"I don't see why you're letting this weird 
thing you found absorb you like this. What's 
the point, anyway?"
"I don't know! I just know that it's 
important. This is something that I have to 
do."
"I just don't see why," MacLeod insisted 
stubbornly.
"Look at it this way. Methos vanishes without 
a word to anyone. Now, I know that isn't 
anything to get upset about by itself, but 
we've also got someone who looks exactly like 
Cory Raines running around, who apparently 
works for some kind of government 
organization that arrests terrorists. Now, 
come on MacLeod, where's your sense of 
adventure?"
"I still haven't recovered from the last 
'adventure' you dragged me on."
"You're no fun anymore," Amanda returned, 
pouting at him. "Maybe I should go find 
someone else who'll help me investigate 
this."
"Oh no you don't," MacLeod responded, 
sweeping Amanda up and into his arms when she 
tried to head for the door. "You're not going 
anywhere."
Amanda squealed with delight, leaning into 
MacLeod's chest and laughing. In truth, 
MacLeod really did want to know what was 
going on, and what the device Amanda had 
stolen from the Cory look-alike meant.
He was just frustrated. Trying to find Methos 
when he didn't want to be found was like 
trying to track a pigeon through New York 
City at rush hour.
			*			*		
	*
Mulder and Scully sat in their basement 
office, Scully filling out the paperwork for 
their last case, and Mulder sorting through 
files from past X-File cases. A distinctive 
ring from Scully's jacket caused them both to 
look at each other with unreadable 
expressions. The cell-phone that Krycek had 
provided them with had only rung a few times. 
Once to explain what measures Section had 
taken to ensure no one found out they had 
been at Section, and twice Krycek had called 
to provide them with information about 
members of the Consortium in place in the 
government. Mulder never questioned the 
evidence he was given, it was always 
irrefutable, and for the first time in his 
career in the X-Files, he was actually 
accomplishing something solid.
Skinner had questioned them about their new 
source, but Mulder just said that he was 
anonymous and left it at that. For now, 
Skinner was willing to leave it at that, but 
Mulder knew he was dying to know where Mulder 
was getting his information. Sometimes, 
Mulder was tempted to tell him just to see 
the look on his face, but Scully would have 
killed him. Not to mention how Section would 
have reacted.
Scully flipped open the phone, and answered 
it with a neutral tone of voice.
"Scully."
"Agent Scully, I have more information for 
you," Krycek's voice said into her ear. From 
the way Scully described these conversations, 
Krycek was always all business during the 
interactions. Mulder was somewhat disturbed 
by the grudging respect that had started to 
enter Scully's eyes when talking about 
Krycek. She was supposed to hate him. That 
was one of the constants of his universe; 
that both he and Scully would hate Alex 
Krycek.
Scully was nodding and had picked up a pen to 
write the information down that he was giving 
her. Mulder knew from experience that it 
would be a location and combination to a 
locker in an inconspicuous, public place. 
Inside the locker would be a pack containing 
all the information and evidence they would 
need to put yet another Consortium member 
away.
"What?" Scully's voice said, sounding 
surprised. "You want to talk to Mulder?"
Mulder's eyebrows raised in surprise. That 
had never happened before. Scully was always 
the intermediary in their contacts, everyone 
involved knowing how hard it was for Mulder 
to control his temper at times.
"Well alright," Scully said, sounding almost 
reluctant. "Here he is."
She handed him the phone, silently mouthing 
'behave' at him. He gave her a wide-eyed, 
innocent look in response. "Mulder."
"Hiya, Mulder!" Krycek's annoyingly cheerful 
voice came from over the phone. Two words, 
which from anyone else would have been a 
friendly greeting, and Mulder was already 
gritting his teeth. It was his attitude, 
Mulder decided.
"What do you want?"
"Jeez, Mulder, you'd think you'd be happier 
to hear from me. After all, you've had 
several nice arrests lately I hear. That's 
alright though, no thanks necessary."
"Good," Mulder grated out.
"Actually, I called to set up a meeting," 
Krycek said, ignoring Mulder's tone. "Do you 
still want to see your sister?"
"...Is she in D.C.?"
"No, but if you agree to the meeting, she'll 
be on the first flight out. What do you say?"
"Where and when?" Mulder asked, resigned. He 
wanted more than anything to see his sister 
again, and to know she was ok, even if it was 
just a clone of the girl he had grown up 
with. Even if this did turn out to be yet 
another deception, he had to be sure.
			*			*		
	*
"I still can't believe you made me come with 
you," Willow said to Samantha as they walked 
down a street in D.C. "He's your brother, 
Sam. One would think you'd be happy to know 
that you had family."
Samantha stared at her best friend. It had 
been four months since she had first met 
Willow, and although she had gotten used to 
her cheeriness, she still often said or did 
things that confused Samantha to no end. "But 
he's not my brother, Willow. I explained 
this. I'm a clone of his sister. The only 
surviving, mutated freak clone."
Willow frowned. "One, you're not a freak. 
Two, who cares if you're a clone? You're the 
same exact genetic material, which makes you 
still related by DNA. He is your brother."
"But he'll probably want to have some kind 
of...relationship. I'm not the girl he knew, 
and from what I've heard about this guy, 
he'll try to make me into her. I just think 
he won't take the actual me very well."
"You have to give him a chance. I mean, it's 
a weird situation. But I don't think a 
'relationship' would be so bad for you. 
You've got to have other things in your life 
besides Section and me."
"How many times do I have to explain this to 
you? I don't need anyone, and my job is my 
life. That's it. You need to stop trying to 
change me."
"I'm not changing you. You are." At 
Samantha's blank look, Willow just grabbed 
her hand and started dragging her down the 
street. "Come on. All this arguing is causing 
the need for chocolate."
"The location we're supposed to meet him at 
is only a few more buildings away. Why did 
you tell Alex to pick that spot?"
"I knew this was going to be a long and 
stressful conversation. The best ice-cream 
parlor in Washington seemed to be the best 
spot to deal with it."
"I'm meeting my long-lost brother after he's 
spent decades of searching for me in an ice 
cream parlor?" Samantha asked, wavering 
between sounding incredulous and amused.
"Sam, ice cream solves everything. The sooner 
you learn that, the better."
"Whatever."
They turned the corner and entered the small 
building, Willow heading straight to the 
counter and ordering two very large hot fudge 
chocolate sundaes before even looking around. 
Then she turned and searched the crowd, 
nudging Samantha. "There they are."
The two FBI agents were sitting in a corner 
booth, looking uncomfortable and out of place 
in their professional clothes among the crowd 
of informal teenagers. Then again, Willow and 
Samantha didn't fit in very well, either. The 
skin-tight clothing blended right in, but 
black leather was not all that common among 
the other teenagers.
"Come on," Willow urged, pulling a reluctant 
Samantha over to the booth. Mulder and Scully 
spotted them as they weaved through the crowd 
towards them. Mulder looked at the girls, 
then focused on Samantha,
staring at her unblinkingly. 
"Hi!" Willow said cheerfully, sliding into 
the booth, setting her sundae down and 
patting the seat next to her. Samantha sat 
down, avoiding eye contact with everyone. 
"Well...I guess I should introduce everyone. 
Um, this is Agent Mulder, and his partner 
Agent Scully. And this is Samantha."
The introductions were for the most part 
unnecessary, since everyone there already 
knew who the others were, but Willow had felt 
the need to fill the awkward silence that had 
descended over the table with something.
"Uh, aren't you going to have some ice cream, 
Agent Mulder? It's really good," Willow 
added, taking another bite of her giant dish 
of ice cream, noting the large dish that 
Scully had bought and was eating.
"After watching Scully order her low-fat, no-
cholesterol, sugarless yogurt, I lost my 
appetite." Willow looked at Scully's dish in 
a new light, and couldn't help but wince in 
sympathy. Yuck.
"So, you're Samantha," Scully said, watching 
the young teenager stir her ice cream without 
much appetite.
Samantha's gaze met Scully's, and the agent 
met her hard eyes unflinchingly. "Yep."
"And you work for Section? You're just a 
child, you look a little younger than Willow 
here, actually. How long have you been an 
operative there?"
"All my life. Well, as long as I can remember 
anyway. The Consortium created me for a 
purpose. All the other clones in the 
experiment had to be put down because of 
flaws in their genetic material. I'm the only 
one that made it long enough to actually be 
trained by the Consortium. I'd probably still 
be there if Alex Krycek hadn't put together a 
mission to extract me."
Mulder made a choking sound, and Samantha 
continued the story, getting an almost 
malicious look on her face. "Yeah, you 
wouldn't believe the experiments they do over 
there. Did you know that our genes are really 
special? We're one in like, a billion people. 
That's why dad gave the original girl to them 
in the first place, you know. He knew that 
doing tests on one of you would be very 
helpful to the project. It was just chance 
that he picked the girl I guess."
Everyone at the table was looking at her with 
horrified expressions on their faces, and 
Samantha looked almost satisfied at the scene 
she had created. A small voice in her head 
was yelling that she shouldn't have said 
those things, but a bigger part of her was 
satisfied. Unconsciously she had wanted to 
create the same emotional turmoil she was 
feeling in everyone else, and now that she 
had accomplished that, she could relax a 
little. Until she felt Willow's sharp elbow 
dig sharply into her side.
"Ow!"
Willow glared at her, disappointed in her 
friend. That had been uncalled for. Samantha 
saw the injured, almost guilty look in 
Mulder's eyes and felt some remorse for her 
behavior. Glancing over at Willow, who was 
giving her a meaningful look, she cleared her 
throat.
"But, um, that's in the past. I'm content 
now. Section has given me a good life, and I 
am a full operative. They put my talents to 
good use."
"What made your batch of clones so special?" 
Scully asked, trying to get the conversation 
away from the ugly turn it had taken. "From 
what I understand, many successful clones 
have been created in the past."
"Those were all destroyed. I'm the only one 
left now. They sort of...I don't know, tweaked 
my genes I guess you could say. I can 
manipulate the electrons of gaseous 
substances, such as air, and excite them to a 
level that will produce a blast of 
electricity. I direct the stream to where I 
want it to go, and it makes a big boom. Get 
all that?"
"It's really cool to watch," Willow chimed 
in. "Very 'Star Wars'."
"So basically, you're like Storm, from X-
Men," Mulder said, finding comfort in his 
pop-culture metaphor.
At Samantha's blank look, Willow shrugged. 
"She doesn't get out much," She explained to 
Mulder. To Samantha, she said, "Eat your ice 
cream before it melts."
"You know we're not supposed to eat on 
missions unless it's necessary for the cover. 
Who knows what could have been put in this in 
the kitchen?"
Willow shot her an incredulous look. "Yes, 
I'm sure there's a terrorist planted in the 
kitchen on the off-chance that some Section 
operatives will stumble in and eat the food."
"It's possible," Samantha said, still 
reluctant.
"Well, she's certainly got your paranoia," 
Scully observed, watching the scene.
Willow glared at Samantha. "Eat the ice 
cream," she said in a low, dangerous tone 
that only surfaced when she was really 
annoyed.
"It looks gross," Samantha complained. "And 
it's cold."
"It's supposed to be cold! That's the point. 
We've been friends for nearly four months 
now, and I've had you eat all kinds of new 
stuff. Have I ever steered you wrong?"
Samantha immediately made a face. "The 
anchovies on the pizza."
"I told you! That was a mistake. They got the 
order wrong. I wanted pepperoni."
"Well, the pineapples were good."
Willow shuddered at that. She hated 
pineapples on her pizza, but Birkoff loved 
it, so Samantha had tried it one night when 
they were all hanging out together. 
Unfortunately, now Samantha was hooked on the 
stuff. Slowly, Samantha put a small amount of 
ice cream onto her spoon and took a bite. Her 
eyes widened at the cold, frosty temperature 
of it. As usual, though, Willow had guided 
her right, and she took another bite in short 
succession. Scully and Mulder watched, 
somewhat bemused, as the hard, capable young 
woman they had seen disappeared, and was 
replaced by an exuberant, normal teenage 
girl.
			*			*		
	*
Nikita ducked behind the car, wincing. She 
hated it when missions went bad, and this one 
was particularly messy. Most of Michael's 
team was already down, and Michael himself 
was still trying to reach the package. She 
was supposed to stay here until he returned 
to keep his exit clear, but the com system 
had gone down a couple of minutes ago and she 
had no way of knowing what was going on.
"Michael!" She yelled into her communicator, 
hoping the signal disrupting them had somehow 
been disabled, but there was still no 
response. As a bullet ricocheted off the car 
near her head, she spun around and shot a man 
in a ski mask that had been sneaking up on 
her position from behind. As he went down, 
she suddenly heard Michael's voice.
"Nikita! I need you!" Wondering how he had 
gotten the communicators to work, but not 
pausing for a moment, Nikita dashed from her 
cover, running to the building where Michael 
had disappeared some time ago. As she 
sprinted through the open stretch of ground, 
she was hailed with bullets, but aiming 
quickly and efficiently while dodging in a 
random pattern, she quickly took down two of 
her attackers, sending the others diving for 
cover.
Running down a hallway, she instinctively 
turned a corner, and dashed into a room, 
shooting two terrorists hiding behind a solid 
desk before they had time to respond to her 
presence. As quiet filled the room, Michael 
stood up from the opposite end of the room, 
where he had been crouching. Nikita thrust 
down a worried exclamation at the sight of 
one of his arms hanging uselessly at his side 
and dripping blood. He clutched his gun in 
the other hand, and, propping up his injured 
side under her shoulder, Nikita supported him 
back out into the hallway.
The trip out to the van was relatively easy. 
Most of the terrorists had been eliminated, 
and only a few stragglers took shots at them, 
but the effortless aim of Michael took care 
of them, even with his injury. Once they had 
reached the van, it raced away, the 
detonation charges that had been planted 
exploding moments later. Michael reached into 
his shirt and pulled out the package they had 
been sent to retrieve, handing it to another 
operative, as Nikita hurriedly dressed his 
arm and tried to stop the bleeding.
"How did you get the com working again?" 
Nikita asked, trying to distract Michael from 
the pain. He gave her a strange look.
"I didn't. There was a signal blocking them 
that I couldn't penetrate. How did you know 
where I was?"
"But...I heard you," Nikita protested, 
confused. "You were calling for help."
Michael looked at her with that blank 
expression that she couldn't stand, but this 
time she knew it was because he was 
disturbed. Neither could say what had 
happened to them during this mission, but 
somehow both of them knew that it was 
something that couldn't be avoided. It was as 
natural and inevitable as their relationship 
had been from the very beginning.
			*			*		
	*
Ever since the meeting between Samantha and 
her brother, Sam had been avoiding Willow. It 
had been weeks, but she had nearly completely 
withdrawn, and if she wasn't off on a 
mission, then she had somewhere else she 
needed to be. Willow was saddened by this, 
but didn't take it personally. She knew 
Samantha just needed some time to work things 
out on her own and didn't need Willow 
pressuring her to conclusions she had to come 
to by herself. Willow was kept busy herself, 
and was in the best shape of her life. The 
practice sessions were no longer things to be 
dreaded, but instead, were times of the day 
she looked forward to now. There was nothing 
more fun than learning a new combination or 
move under Nikita or Alex's supervision, and 
they both seemed surprised at the amazing 
progress Willow had made over the past few 
months. She could already give Nikita a run 
for her money, and at least now Alex broke a 
sweat before tossing her all over the mat.
Samantha had meant to keep avoiding Willow, 
but one afternoon in late November she was 
coming out of the training room, having just 
finished teaching the new recruits basic 
hand-to-hand skills, when she ran into 
Willow. There she was, in one of the practice 
rooms, fighting Nikita with Alex Krycek 
watching. Samantha paused, then came nearer 
to watch.
Surprisingly, Willow was good. Very good. 
Both agents were already sweating, but Willow 
was keeping Nikita on the defensive, making 
her retreat. As Samantha watched, Willow 
delivered a quick series of kicks to Nikita's 
midsection, then crouched down and swept the 
older woman's feet out from under her, 
placing a foot on top of Nikita's now prone 
body. Alex laughed and clapped from the 
corner encouragingly.
"Very good Pumpkin!"
Willow grinned and offered Nikita a hand, 
helping her up. "Luck," Nikita said with a 
smile.
"You wish," Willow replied.
Just then, Alex spotted Samantha watching. 
"Hey!"
Samantha looked at him, startled and slightly 
in awe. Alex Krycek was talking to her. 
"Yes?"
"Samantha, right? Come over here." Samantha 
obeyed, entering the training room. "Willow 
needs a new sparring partner. You up for it?"
"Sure," she said, shrugging, while thinking 
to herself that she should have just left 
while she had the chance. Now she was stuck 
with the one person she had been most trying 
to avoid.
Willow's eyes widened, but she moved to the 
center of the room obediently, watching as 
her friend did the same. Alex gave the start 
signal and both girls began to circle each 
other, sizing each other up. Willow was the 
first to strike out, and Samantha noted the 
tendency towards impatience in a fight. The 
first exchange was short, mostly just a way 
for both to get the other's timing and speed. 
They backed away from each other, circling 
again.
This time, Samantha was the one to attack, 
moving in quickly with a flurry of kicks and 
punches that put Willow on the defensive, 
blocking all of Samantha's best efforts. 
Eventually, Willow switched tactics, blocking 
one kick, and using the momentum to her 
advantage, launching herself at Samantha with 
a backhanded punch. Samantha dodged just in 
time, throwing herself back away from her, 
breathing quickly.
The girls circled each other again, each 
looking for an opening. "If I win," Willow 
said, slightly out of breath, "does that mean 
you'll have to talk to me again?"
"Nope," Samantha said, attacking her again 
before Willow had a chance to respond. Willow 
ducked and backed away, then closed the 
distance between them and hit Samantha back 
with a powerful right hook. They grappled at 
close quarters for a few seconds, before 
Samantha's longer training gave her the 
advantage, and she threw Willow away from her 
with a twist and outflung wrist that Willow 
never saw coming. Willow fell to the ground, 
but when Samantha went to pounce, used her 
legs to flip her over and land on her back 
right above the area where Willow was lying.
"I'd call that a draw," Alex said from the 
corner. "I'm impressed, girls."
Willow and Samantha sat up slowly, wincing 
over their bruises. "Um, I've gotta go," 
Samantha said, getting up to leave.
"Oh no you don't!" Willow exclaimed, grabbing 
the other girl's arm. "I was willing to be 
nice and patient, but it's been weeks now. 
I'm tired of being patient. Time to quit 
being a baby and talk to me."
"Baby!?" Samantha said indignantly. Willow 
always seemed to be able to make her feel 
like a child, no matter what she did, and she 
really didn't like the feeling. "I just 
didn't feel like talking that's all. Do you 
have a problem with that?"
"Yes!" Willow practically shouted. "We're 
supposed to be friends, remember? There's no 
conceivable reason for you to be avoiding 
me."
"Well, I guess I'll be going, see you later 
Pumpkin," Alex said from the corner, leaving 
quickly with Nikita. Now that they were 
alone, Samantha seemed even more 
uncomfortable and broke away from Willow's 
grasp to pick up a towel and wipe off her 
face.
"I've never had a friend," Samantha finally 
muttered quietly. "I'm not exactly sure how 
this works."
Willow sighed, then smiled. "Well, it helps 
if you actually speak to me for starters. 
Talking about whatever's bothering you might 
help too, instead of shutting me out 
completely."
"I guess that makes sense," Samantha said, 
hoping she hadn't totally blown it with 
Willow and that she would still want to be 
friends. "So...do you want to go somewhere and 
talk?"
"Sure," Willow said, smiling again at 
Samantha. She knew that a friendship with 
this girl would never be easy, and Willow 
only hoped that she would be able to help her 
make sense of some of her life. They left the 
workout room together, once again friends.
			*			*		
	*
Methos grumbled as he walked down the street 
in Sunnydale. He had now spent several months 
in this town, and was no closer to finding 
out what had drawn him here than he had been 
at the beginning. But every time he decided 
to leave, something stopped him. So, as much 
as it went against his nature, he had decided 
to talk to the Slayer and her friends, tell 
them why he was really there. Maybe that 
would get him somewhere.
He finally arrived at what he had deduced was 
the group's normal meeting place-the 
apartment of one Rupert Giles, the seeming 
father figure of the group. Standing before 
the door, he could hear an argument going on 
inside. He paused and listened carefully.
"This is hopeless! How are we supposed to 
find out anything? Let's face it, Willow was 
our source of information. The only person 
who could find Willow would be Willow!" 
Buffy's voice said.
"But she's alive! Or at least, she might be 
alive! We can't just give up!" Exclaimed 
Xander.
"There's no way we can find her, even if she 
is alive," pointed out Buffy. "We have more 
concrete problems."
"No!" Xander yelled. "There's got to be a way 
to figure this out!"
Methos chose that moment to knock on the 
door. The voices inside suddenly fell silent, 
and a moment later Giles answered the door. 
When he saw Methos, he glared. "What are you 
doing here?"
Methos shrugged and walked past him. "I 
wasn't getting anywhere with this little 
mystery of mine. Figured that maybe the 
Slayer and her buddies could help me. But 
from the sound of things, it doesn't seem 
that you've had too much luck investigating 
your friend's death either."
Riley narrowed his eyes. "Why would an 
Immortal bother investigating Willow's 
death?"
Methos was only slightly surprised that they 
knew he was an Immortal, so there was no 
visible reaction on his face. "I have my own 
reasons. But I have learned enough to 
conclude that there is a possibility that 
your friend is still alive. Considering your 
lack of resources, I'm wondering how you came 
to the same conclusion."
"A friend of ours had a vision. Over four 
months ago." 
"Ah. Well, you certainly are dedicated. Four 
months of searching with nearly no results 
isn't fun. Therefore, I have a suggestion."
Everyone seemed to be listening skeptically, 
so he continued. "Bring your friends here, 
and I'll share what little I know. Working 
together might get us a little further."
"Why would that require Cordy and Angel?" 
Xander asked.
"I want to talk to the Seer in person. I have 
quite a bit of experience in interpreting 
visions, as well as bringing them on."
"You can do that?"
"Of course. Do we have a deal?"
The group of four seemed to consider for a 
moment, then Buffy nodded. "Deal."
			*			*		
	*
Birkoff had finally settled back into a 
routine at Section. At first, the presence of 
Willow as his new partner had thrown him off, 
but now they were working together as 
smoothly as if there had never been any other 
arrangement. Madeline was especially pleased 
by the increase in efficiency, and Operations 
seemed to enjoy having an extra person to 
bark at when things went wrong. As for 
Birkoff himself, he had to admit that his 
life had definitely gotten better since 
Willow had showed up. The workload was 
lighter because he had someone capable to 
share it with, and he now had time for a 
social life outside of Section, which to his 
great surprise but delight, tended to include 
Willow as a main figure. They spent a lot of 
time together. Just the other day, she had 
taken him ice-skating for the first time in 
his life. He still had bruises. But it had 
been worth it. By the end of the evening, he 
had gotten pretty good at it, and they skated 
around the rink hand in hand. If he was being 
perfectly honest with himself, he would admit 
that he couldn't imagine life without Willow 
anymore.
Just then, Willow herself sat down next to 
him, interrupting his thoughts. "There you 
are," he said. "Where've you been?"
"Setting up lunch," Willow said with a grin. 
"The aren't any missions for another hour and 
a half, right?"
"Yeah," Birkoff replied, confused. "Why?"
Willow took his hand and pulled him out of 
his chair. "Because I've got a surprise for 
you,' she explained, leading him down out of 
the Hub of Section and into the hallways 
behind Walter's station. "I figured that even 
if he found us back here, he wouldn't care."
They walked for a few moments, then Willow 
turned to him and said, "Now close your 
eyes."
"What?" Birkoff asked, a skeptical look on 
his face.
She looked at him with a sweet, pleading look 
on her face. "Please?"
Birkoff sighed, then shut his eyes. Willow 
smiled and took his hand, leading him down 
the last few feet of the tunnel-like hallway. 
After one quick check to make sure that 
everything was still perfect, she said, "Ok, 
you can open them now."
Birkoff opened his eyes and was greeted with 
a beautiful site. A red and white checkered 
blanket decorated the floor of the hallway, 
and on it was a woven basket with chicken, 
fruit, cheese, bread, potato salad, cake, 
cookies, and other assorted foods surrounding 
it. The light in the hallway was dim because 
so few people ever came back there that full 
lighting was inefficient, so Willow had lit a 
candle in the center of the blanket. "What's 
all this?" Birkoff asked, not sure whether to 
be touched or confused.
Willow shrugged. "I wanted a picnic, but 
London weather in early December is hardly 
picnic-friendly. Then I realized that they 
don't care what we do for lunch as long as we 
eat and figured instead of eating out like we 
always do, we could eat in. I thought it 
would be...romantic."
Birkoff's eyebrows rose. "Romantic?" He 
repeated, slightly dumbfounded. He had to 
admit that he was falling head over heels for 
this little quirky redhead, but she had 
always resisted any advances he made beside 
friendship. Now though, it seemed things were 
about to change.
Willow nodded, blushing slightly. "Unless...you 
don't...I mean..."
"No! I mean, of course I...I just thought that 
you didn't want to..."
"I didn't," At his confused look, Willow 
attempted to explain. "Right before I was 
recruited, I had had a really bad break-up 
with the only guy I had ever really dated. It 
took me awhile to remember...what falling in 
love feels like."
Birkoff couldn't seem to wipe the grin off of 
his face. He pulled Willow into his arms and 
leaned his forehead against hers, closing his 
eyes and sighing contentedly. Then he kissed 
her, surprised at the lights that began to 
flash behind his eyelids and the way the kiss 
seemed so...right. Wow. So this was what love 
was like...
A soft, polite cough interrupted their kiss, 
and they both pulled away reluctantly. Walter 
stood there with Samantha. Walter had a huge 
grin on his face and Samantha just looked 
sort of...intrigued while she studied them.
"I had to come back here to find a part for 
Samantha here," Walter explained. "What were 
you two doing?"
Willow leaned her forehead against Birkoff's 
for a moment, then pulled away, laughing. 
"Very funny. We were having lunch. Would you 
like some?" 
Walter and Samantha pounced on the food 
eagerly. Birkoff sighed, then sat down on the 
blanket with them. Walter was the only father 
figure he had ever had, and Samantha had 
actually become somewhat of a friend through 
Willow, so he supposed he would have to 
forgive their intrusion. Picking up a piece 
of chicken, he began to eat heartily.
Fifteen minutes later, a curious Alex popped 
his head around the corner. "I smell Willow-
cooking," he said.
"It's a good thing I cooked a lot," Willow 
said as Alex settled down on the blanket. 
Alex grinned and helped himself to a piece of 
fruit. "Nikita was right behind me, and I 
think she was dragging Michael along too."
Sure enough, just then Michael and Nikita 
rounded the corner. Nikita was laughing. 
"Willow, only you would dare to try and pull 
a stunt like this in Section One."
"Everyone has to eat, right?" Willow pointed 
out. "What does it matter where or how?"
Nikita settled down on the blanket, pulling a 
reluctant Michael after her.
An hour later, Operations was walking around 
the Hub when he heard laughter coming from 
one of the back hallways. Puzzled, he 
followed the sound past Walter's station and 
into one of the seldom-used storage hallways. 
Turning several corners, he came face to face 
with a group of people laughing and talking 
on what appeared to be...a blanket?
"WHAT is going on here?!" He yelled.
The entire group became silent and turned to 
look at him. He continued, "Who authorized 
this mess?!"
The group all leaned back and Operations was 
struck dumb when he saw his right-hand, 
Madeline herself, sitting on the blanket 
primly eating an apple. "Hello Paul," she 
said in her calm, expressionless voice. "I 
heard them a few minutes ago and came to 
investigate. They'll be back to work in a few 
minutes, after they've all eaten a sufficient 
amount of food that even the best operative 
needs to keep up their efficiency level." 
After a pause, she picked up another apple 
and offered it to him. "Would you like an 
apple? They're very nutritional."
Part Seven
MacLeod got out of the taxi and looked around 
for a moment, then turned and offered his 
hand to Amanda. She paid the cab driver and 
grabbed their bags, then turned and looked 
around the small community of Sunnydale, 
California.
"So, where do we start looking for Methos?" 
Amanda asked.
MacLeod shrugged. "I suppose the university 
would be the best place."
The two Immortals headed towards the 
university, each with a duffel bag in hand. 
MacLeod was still annoyed with himself for 
taking so long to find Methos. He and Amanda 
had figured that since he was already known 
as Adam Pierson in one life, he wouldn't use 
the same name for another. They had figured 
wrong. Once they had tried the pseudonym, 
they had easily found a professor of 
psychology at a small town college that had 
seemingly appeared out of nowhere almost five 
months ago. He and Amanda had booked tickets 
on the first available flight to Sunnydale, 
and that's how they had gotten where they 
were now.
The couple quickly found a map of the campus 
and headed towards what appeared to be the 
Human Sciences building. When they entered, 
each of them felt a surge of power and knew 
that Methos was near. Looking around 
frantically, they picked out the figure of a 
man sitting with three college students and 
an older man just inside a classroom door. 
They walked towards the door and the man 
stood, making a face when he saw who it was.
"Amanda. MacLeod. What a...well, surprise."
"Professor Pierson," Amanda said, wanting to 
keep his cover.
Sighing, Methos said resignedly, "Why don't 
you come in? I'll explain everything."
			*			*		
	*
Willow walked down the halls of Section 
quickly, whistling a Christmas Carol. With 
the Solstice only ten days away, she was in 
an incredibly cheerful mood. Ever since she 
had moved to Section, her magical powers had 
been increasing at enormous rates, and she 
looked forward to holidays because they were 
a time where her newfound powers were at 
their height. Besides, she was going to get 
to celebrate the winter holidays with her new 
friends-her family. Although the thought of 
Buffy and the Scooby gang still made her a 
little sad from time to time, she had managed 
to compartmentalize her life fairly well, 
realizing that she could never be happy in 
Section if she kept thinking about what she 
didn't have rather than what she did. And she 
had a lot. She had a great roommate, the 
closest thing to an older sister she'd ever 
had, and Walter, who would listen to her 
problems for hours. She had Alex, her older 
brother figure who she adored, and Samantha, 
her best friend. Not to mention what was 
becoming a very serious relationship with 
Birkoff. She could stand up for herself now, 
the training with Alex and Nikita had gone so 
well that she really did have the skill level 
of a Level Three or Level Four operative, and 
her wardrobe was much cooler. Life was good. 
Thinking about all this, she had come up with 
an idea. 
"Hark the herald angels sing..." she sang 
softly. She reached her station and finished 
up her work for the day, gave Birkoff a quick 
kiss, then headed to Nikita's station. 
"Nikita!" She called out, and the blond 
turned around, smiling when she saw Willow.
"Yeah?"
Willow pulled up a chair next to Nikita's 
station and sat in it casually. "I have an 
idea. Oversite is closing down Section One 
for a complete systems and inventory check 
just like they do every year, right?"
Nikita nodded. "Right before Christmas. Why?"
"Well, we all get down time, right?"
Nikita nodded again.
"Well, I was thinking we should have a party. 
A holiday party. It'll be fun! We can invite 
everyone, and have a big, normal holiday 
dinner."
"We'll have to make sure it's all right with 
Operations and Madeline, but I don't see any 
problem with it."
"Oh, I'll check I guess. They're not all that 
bad, and it's my idea."
Willow stood and half ran up the stairs to 
Operations' perch, knocking on the door 
sedately, but still humming.
"Come in!"
The doors opened and Willow stepped in, 
relieved to see both Madeline and Operations 
there. "Hello Willow," Madeline said.
"Hi! I wanted to ask you something," Willow 
explained. She told them about her idea 
quickly, and they looked at each other 
meaningfully.
"That sounds fine, Willow," Madeline said 
finally.
"Great!" The young girl practically squealed, 
then turned to leave. Suddenly, she stopped 
and turned around again. "Would you like to 
come?"
Two sets of eyes blinked at her, surprised. 
They exchanged another look, this one much 
more confused and questioning.
"Um, thank you very much for the invitation, 
Willow, but we will be very busy supervising 
the systems check," Madeline said finally.
Willow frowned, but nodded. "Well, let me 
know if you change your minds."
"I will," Madeline said with a polite smile.
Willow nodded and left, whistling. Operations 
and Madeline watched her from the perch, both 
slightly befuddled. "That girl is strange. 
Not to mention entirely too cheerful," 
Operations said finally.
"Nonsense. She's worked wonders for the 
morale."
"Nonetheless," Operations grumbled, more to 
have something to complain about than for any 
real reason, "we need to watch her closely. 
Remember who her mother was."
"Of course. But then, there's her father to 
consider as well. Either way, she's proving 
to be a good asset to Section, despite being 
a little...unconventional."
			*			*		
	*
Amanda and MacLeod looked around the crowded 
apartment, slightly confused. Right before 
nightfall, the entire group had moved to 
Giles' apartment, although no one would 
explain why this was necessary. Ever since 
they had arrived, the group of college 
students and Methos had been trying to 
explain the events behind a young girl's 
death and why Methos had come all the way 
across the world to investigate it. Things 
just seemed to get more confusing, however, 
and just when Amanda and MacLeod thought that 
they couldn't be any more confused, the 
doorbell rang.
The boy named Xander walked to the door and 
answered it, smiling when he saw the girl who 
stood there. He reached out and hugged her 
with a greeting. "Hey Cordy! It's good to see 
you! It's about time you got here!"
The girl shrugged. "Angel was right in the 
middle of a case. We couldn't just leave."
A tall, dark-haired, serious man appeared 
behind the girl, and the room fell silent. 
Riley and Xander seemed to be glaring at the 
new addition to the room, and Giles didn't 
seem all that pleased to see him either. In 
fact, no one seemed overjoyed at the man's 
presence.
"Angel," someone said grudgingly. The man 
nodded in greeting, but said nothing.
"I've got it!" Exclaimed Methos triumphantly 
from a corner.
The entire group turned to him and Amanda 
bounded up to his side, curious. "So what 
does the annoying thing say?"
Methos read the panel quickly. "It's the 
details for some sort of mission involving 
the removal of a bomb placed by a terrorist 
from a government organization. It seems to 
belong to a top-secret anti-terrorist 
organization. There aren't any details 
besides the perimeters for the mission, 
though."
"A top-secret organization, huh?" Xander 
said, peering over Methos' shoulder. "Maybe 
they have Willow."
"How is that related to this at all?" 
Exclaimed Buffy, slightly annoyed.
Xander considered, then shrugged. "It's not. 
But a top-secret organization would have the 
resources to fake a death." When he saw the 
skeptical looks around the room, he said 
defensively, "Hey, do you guys have any 
better ideas? Because we have yet to come up 
with a plausible way she could be alive! 
Maybe it wasn't this particular agency, but 
if she was hacking into something she 
shouldn't have been right before her death, 
then who's to say that they didn't come to 
get her?"
Silence ruled the room for awhile, then Giles 
cleared his throat. "Actually, he has a 
point."
Reluctantly, most of the people in the room 
seemed to agree. Methos stood and stretched 
then headed toward the two newcomers. He 
stopped in front of the girl and smiled. "So 
you're the Seer."
"Unfortunately," the girl replied. "I'm 
Cordelia."
"Adam Pierson," Methos answered, offering his 
had and shaking Cordelia's. "It seems that 
you're our only hope of solving this 
particular mystery."
"But I can't control the visions! They just 
sort of...appear when they want."
"Ah, but there are ways of bringing them on. 
I was friends with a Seer awhile back and 
picked up a few tricks." Methos picked up a 
sack next to him and turned into the kitchen 
where he disappeared, emerging a few moments 
later with a glass filled with a putrid 
smelling brown liquid. "This is the quickest 
way."
Cordelia eyed the glass with disgust. "What's 
in that?"
Methos made a face. "Don't ask. Just drink."
Cordelia took the glass and sat down on the 
couch, gazing at the horrid liquid, face 
slightly green. "This is gonna be really 
awful, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so."
She hesitated for one more minute, then took 
a deep breath. "For Willow," she said grimly. 
"Bottoms up."
She brought the glass to her lips and downed 
the entire revolting concoction in three 
gulps, sputtering at the horrible taste. She 
dropped the glass on the floor as flashes of 
light and color assaulted her almost 
immediately. When the vision finally ended, 
she managed to gasp, "Paper."
With one hand she grabbed the water Giles had 
ready, still gagging, and with the other she 
wrote down a series of words and numbers. 
"I'm going to be tasting that stuff for 
days," she muttered. Then she gazed at what 
she wrote, reading it aloud.
"46 Holmes Dr, London, England. Apartment 
4B." Looking at Methos, she smiled. "Wow."
"What is it?" Xander asked.
"It's where she lives."
			*			*		
	*
Scully was on her way out of the office after 
a long day's work when the cell-phone Krycek 
had given her rang. Surprised, she answered 
it. "Hello?"
"Hi Agent Scully!" A chipper voice greeted 
her.
Confused, she tried to place the voice. She 
only knew one person that was that cheery. 
"Willow?" she asked.
"Yep, it's me. I got the number from Alex."
"Oh," Scully said, still confused. She hadn't 
seen the girl since Mulder had dragged her 
along to the meeting between him and his 
sister. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to invite you to my party."
Scully's eyebrows shot up. "Party?" She 
repeated.
"Yeah. A holiday party. Madeline and 
Operations said you could come if you liked, 
that I could pay for the tickets."
"I thought that we're not supposed to know 
where Section is."
"Oh, they found out that you knew. They're 
like that."
"I see." Scully considered. "Mulder too?"
"Of course! Although he'll have to behave. 
Alex is coming, of course, and there is not 
going to be any fighting of any kind 
allowed."
"That may be difficult for him," Scully said 
with a smile.
"I know. But Sam will be there too, and she 
thinks she'd like to see him again. Her exact 
words."
"Well...I'll have to see what Mulder thinks."
"Of course. Why don't I call back tomorrow?"
"Sounds good."
"Ok then. Goodbye, Agent Scully."
"Bye Willow."
			*			*		
	*
The group of Sunnydale residents, people from 
Los Angeles, and Immortals came close to 
filling up a floor of the hotel they were 
staying at in London. Fortunately, Methos had 
had the foresight to call ahead and reserve 
them enough rooms at a nice hotel or they 
would have been in trouble. He was paying the 
expenses for this venture as well, shrugging 
off the costs carelessly, saying that if he 
didn't have a careful network of accountants, 
he wouldn't even be able to keep track of his 
network of wealth anymore. At this, Cordelia 
had gotten a predatory gleam in her eyes for 
a moment before shaking it off, and MacLeod 
and Amanda had looked at him strangely. 
Explaining that he liked to keep a low 
profile, Methos ignored all attempts by 
Giles, Angel, MacLeod, and Amanda to 
contribute to the costs of the trip.
It had been much easier to get everyone 
moving than Methos had feared. They were in 
London and situated in less than a week. The 
boy Xander just mentioned to his mother that 
he would be traveling for a few days, and 
that she shouldn't worry, as he was packing 
his suitcase. Buffy's mother apparently 
already knew that she was the Slayer, so 
after a quick hug and admonishment to be 
careful, she wished them luck on their search 
for Willow and said goodbye.
Now the group of ten was gathered in the main 
room of the suite Methos was staying in, 
trying to plan their next move. With a group 
this large and diverse, however, it was 
quickly becoming apparent that agreeing on 
anything would be nearly impossible unless 
someone took charge. Buffy and Riley were 
leaning against each other by the fireplace, 
pushing for a full frontal assault with no 
finesse involved whatsoever. Angel supported 
this idea, but only on the condition that 
only he and the Immortals go in. Anyone else 
would be too vulnerable, he stated, his eyes 
sliding towards Buffy. MacLeod was trying to 
come up with an elaborate plan that had 
little chance of succeeding, while Amanda, 
who was perched on the arm of the easy chair 
he was sitting in was trying to talk everyone 
into the breaking-and-entering option. Giles, 
sitting on the couch, wanted to talk 
everything to death, and was paging through a 
thick tome, trying to come up with a spell 
that would fit the occasion. Xander and 
Cordelia, who were also seated on the couch, 
were not contributing much to the discussion, 
except for Xander's occasional interruptions 
as he mocked everyone in the room in turn. 
Spike, who had joined the travelers at the 
last minute, just sat apart from everyone 
else, smirking. Arriving right before they 
had left, he had simply said that he wanted 
to help find 'Red'.
"Enough!" Methos said sharply, satisfied when 
everyone immediately fell silent, staring at 
him in surprise. "We're never going to 
accomplish anything as a democracy. This is 
what we're going to do. Amanda, you will find 
a way into the apartment. Take Buffy with you 
in case there is a confrontation and you have 
to fight your way out. You'll observe the 
situation first-hand, and extract Willow 
without a struggle if she's alone. Angel, 
MacLeod, Spike, Riley and I will find a 
position near the door of the building in 
case we need to intervene. Cordelia and 
Xander will be stationed nearby with high-
powered binoculars, monitoring the situation 
through the windows and keeping in touch with 
us through the communicators I'll provide 
everyone with in a moment. Giles, you need to 
find a spell that will help disguise and keep 
Buffy and Amanda from being detected inside 
the apartment. We don't know what the 
situation will be in there. Any questions?"
Everyone in the room stared at him, shocked 
speechless by his commanding tone. Since no 
one could find any part of his plan to object 
to, and he had really addressed every 
important issue in his directions, nobody 
could find anything to say for a moment.
"Good thing I brought my equipment," Amanda 
muttered, grinning. She would rather do this 
alone, she had to admit, it would be a good 
idea to have backup. And if she had to take 
someone, it might as well be the blond girl. 
She seemed flexible, and looked strong enough 
to be useful. Methos grabbed a black duffel 
bag from behind his chair, and passed out 
devices that fit snugly behind the wearer's 
ear, and allowed them all to communicate. He 
handed high-tech binoculars to Cordelia and 
Xander, and gave them quick instructions on 
their use
"Where did you get this stuff anyway?" Riley 
asked, puzzled. "Some of this equipment is 
state-of-the-art military grade stuff."
"I have a friend who owes me a favor in MI6," 
Methos explained casually. "I promised to 
have his things back in a few days. I called 
him as soon as we got off the plane. Alright 
people, let's get organized here. We move out 
tomorrow."
The separate units spread apart, Amanda and 
Buffy starting to work out the details of 
their covert entrance, MacLeod sorting out 
positions and weapons among the team he had 
assumed command of, and Cordelia and Xander 
arguing good-naturedly about something 
inconsequential as they tried to figure out 
the binoculars. Methos oversaw everyone, and 
circulated among the groups, pointing out 
errors or oversights when he saw them, but 
mostly just providing a leader figure for 
everyone else to follow.
			*			*		
	*
Skinner jumped as his phone ran, cutting the 
silence in his office and startling him. 
Grumbling, he picked up the receiver. "Yes?" 
He asked testily.
"Agent Skinner, is this line secure?" A voice 
said in his ear.
Skinner rolled his eyes. Only one of a crazy 
group of three would ask that. "Of course. 
Which one of Mulder's crazy friends are you?" 
"Actually all three of us are on the line," 
said a second voice.
"We're worried about Mulder. He's 
disappeared," explained a third voice.
Skinner groaned. "He and Agent Scully called 
in yesterday, requesting a few days off for 
the holidays. Said they wanted to go away for 
awhile."
"That's highly improbable."
Skinner was very annoyed. "Why? What other 
reason would they be going away?"
"We think they're being controlled by a 
covert government organization," one of the 
Lone Gunmen said.
"What?! I'm hanging up now."
"No, wait!"
Against his better judgement, Skinner paused. 
"What?"
"Why not come to London with us? If we find 
Agent Scully and Agent Mulder on vacation 
together, then you were right and you'll have 
a free trip to England to boot."
"If we're right, then we'll have saved their 
butts."
Skinner was shocked to find himself actually 
considering their offer. Finally, he said, 
"First-class or coach?"
Part Eight
"No, Samantha!" Willow yelled. "When it says 
one egg, you have to crack it first!"
When Samantha looked at her blankly, Willow 
kept the scream that was building up inside 
somehow. The party had seemed like a good 
idea at the time, but now Willow almost 
regretted the impulse. Nikita was out, said 
she had some Christmas shopping to do, so 
Willow was left alone to try and get the 
party together on her own. One panicked phone 
call later, and Sam had come over, but Willow 
quickly learned that left on her own, the 
girl could cause more trouble than Xander on 
a sugar-high.
"Crack it?"
"Yes! See, like this."
"Oh..." Samantha said, understanding dawning 
across her face. "I've never cooked before 
you know."
"Yes," Willow said patiently. "I figured that 
out."
"I guess this means I've got to do the 
stuffing over again."
"Yes. I guess it does."
Willow made sure that Sam knew what she was 
doing, then walked out to the living room 
where she had left the decorations. Tiny 
white twinkling Christmas lights were now 
wrapped around the patio and the several 
columns in the room, and several evergreen 
wreaths were hanging from various spots 
around the room. There was a Christmas tree 
tastefully decorated in the corner, and under 
it were the many presents Willow and Nikita 
had brought, as well as the ultra-neat, 
obviously store-wrapped presents from 
Samantha. A menorah stood in the window, its 
candles flickering in the cloudy light of the 
December afternoon, and a small silver 
pentacle hung over the door to Willow's room. 
To fill up the rest of the space, she had 
gathered all of the candles she could find 
and placed them all around the room, on 
various stands, ready to light them right 
before the party began. Soft classical music 
played in the background, a medley of Russian 
composers she had picked to amuse Alex, and 
as Willow looked around the room, finally 
content with its appearance, she felt a 
shiver down her back, almost like someone was 
watching her. She turned and looked out of 
the glass doors to the patio, running her 
eyes carefully over the surrounding area, 
then shrugged off the feeling and headed back 
into the kitchen.
"How are you doing in here, Sam?"
"I think I'm starting to get the hang of it," 
Samantha said cheerfully, covered in various 
sauces and flour from the desert she had 
attempted.
Willow only blinked. Granted, she was 
probably just as messy in her sweats, but the 
sight of her friend reminded her that though 
they had taken care of everything else, they 
had forgotten to get themselves ready. After 
a quick check on the turkey, which smelled 
amazing, she turned back to her friend with a 
smile. "Ok, into the shower you go," she said 
grinning.
"But what about the vegetable dish?" Samantha 
asked, almost disappointed to give up her 
post.
"I can take it from here," Willow said, 
laughing good-naturedly, and pushing Samantha 
out of the kitchen. "You need to get changed. 
You don't want Mulder to see you like this, 
do you?"
"I guess you're right," she acknowledged 
reluctantly. "Make sure you baste the turkey 
again in a few minutes. And the potatoes 
still need to be blended. And the casserole 
comes out in another ten minutes."
"I've got it!" Willow said, exasperated, 
pushing the anxious cook out with finality. 
"Go get yourself cleaned up, already!"
After Samantha had retreated into the 
bathroom, with one last worried backward 
glance, Willow began stirring the sauce 
simmering on the stove absent-mindedly. She 
had to admit that if anything, having 
Samantha as a best friend was never boring.
			*			*		
	*
"The other girl just went into the bathroom," 
Xander said into his communicator. "Willow's 
cooking."
"It looks like they're getting ready for a 
party," Cordelia chimed in. "If we're gonna 
do this, now would be a good time."
"Amanda, Buffy, move into your positions," 
Methos' voice said in their ears.
With his binoculars, Xander saw two black-
clad figures repelling down from the roof 
onto the patio-like balcony of the apartment 
Willow was in. He focused on Willow again. 
"Hold on a sec, she's gone into one of the 
bedrooms."
Amanda quickly picked the lock to the sliding 
doors, then whispered to Buffy, "After you."
Buffy stealthily ran into the apartment, 
ducking behind the large ornamental screen in 
one of the corners, Amanda close behind. Just 
then, the door to the apartment opened and a 
tall blond woman walked in, laden down with 
packages.
			*			*		
	*
"Willow, I'm back!" She called out.
"Great, can you baste the turkey real quick? 
We're almost ready," Willow's voice came from 
her room.
"Um, sure," Nikita's voice called out, much 
less confidently.
"You just take the long tube thingee with the 
squeezer at the end of it, suck up some of 
the juice from around the turkey and squeeze 
it onto it a few times," Samantha's voice 
came from the bedroom, understanding Nikita's 
confusion. "It's pretty easy once you get 
it."
"Ok, sounds simple enough," Nikita mumbled, 
picking up a strange looking utensil from the 
counter that fitted Samantha's description 
and opening the oven to 'baste the turkey'. 
With her life in Section, and her life on the 
streets, she didn't have a great deal of 
experience with this sort of thing. Samantha 
was right, though, it was pretty easy. Just 
then, Samantha emerged from the bedroom, 
looking stunning in her tight silver dress 
with slits running high up to mid-thigh. 
Nikita saw and noted this aspect of the 
design that would be useful if a fight broke 
out, leaving her legs free for high kicks and 
not impeding her movements. She herself wore 
a similar style of dress, but Nikita's was 
shorter, black, and leather.
Samantha immediately moved over to the 
kitchen and put her apron back on, starting 
to blend the mashed potatoes. She looked a 
little silly, with her elegantly styled hair, 
classy dress, and expensive jewelry in the 
tacky apron, but she didn't seem to mind.
"Samantha, you look nice," Nikita said, 
wondering if she should change to something 
more formal herself.
"Thanks, Nikita," Samantha said, looking up 
from the potatoes. "I just really wanted to 
try and get it right between me and Mulder 
this time. Willow was really mad about the 
last time and how I acted, and I wanted to 
make a better impression this time."
"You can't really make a worse one," said 
Willow, coming out of the bedroom while 
putting on her second emerald earring.
"That's a beautiful jewelry set," Nikita 
said, taking in the simple and elegant 
emerald necklace, earrings, and bracelet in 
silver settings.
"Oh, thanks. Madeline gave them to me 
yesterday," Willow said casually.
"Really," Nikita said neutrally, not pointing 
out how completely unheard of that was.
"Yeah," Willow continued, not noticing the 
dumbfounded looks on both Nikita and 
Samantha's face. "She felt bad about not 
being able to come tonight."
"You invited her?" Samantha asked 
incredulously.
"Of course! It would have been pretty rude 
not to, don't you think? It's too bad she 
couldn't come. I bet she and Operations don't 
get to go to many parties, they're so busy 
all the time."
"You invited Operations, too?" Nikita asked, 
sounding a bit choked.
"Well, he was standing right there," Willow 
said, somewhat affronted. "Of course I did."
			*			*		
	*
Willow moved into the living room, and right 
into Xander's line of sight. "What in the..." 
he muttered, doing a double take.
Buffy, still crouching in the corner, had to 
muffle her own surprise. Was that really 
Willow? The girl in front of her was wearing 
a long, simple black leather skirt with a 
slit almost all the way up her right leg. A 
skimpy, shimmering green tank top that 
brought out her eyes was all she wore on top 
except for the beautiful, very expensive 
looking emerald necklace. Her hair was 
slightly curled around her face and she wore 
tasteful make-up. All in all, she looked 
amazing, and not at all like the Willow they 
knew.
"Wow," Cordelia said admiringly. "She sure 
cleans up nice. Who knew Willow had it in 
her."
"Report!" Methos' voice snapped into their 
ears.
"Buffy and Amanda are in, and they weren't 
seen, but there's another woman there too 
now, and she looks kind of scary," Xander 
noted. "Willow just came out of the bed room, 
and everyone's all dressed up."
"Wait, something's happening," Cordelia 
interrupted. "Willow's going to the door now. 
Two men just walked in. One's tall, dark-
hair, ohhhhh, leather jacket," Cordelia said, 
getting distracted for a moment.
"What is it with these people and leather?" 
Xander asked absently, a little annoyed at 
Cordelia's attitude. They were supposed to be 
doing a job here, not drooling over the 
enemy. Just then, he adjusted the focus on 
his binoculars and caught sight of the young 
woman walking into the living room, tossing 
an apron behind her into the kitchen. He 
couldn't take his eyes off of her. The silver 
dress accentuated perfectly her figure, and 
she moved with a grace and confidence that he 
had never seen in someone their age before.
"What's going on up there?" Methos' voice 
demanded, getting really annoyed. Maybe it 
hadn't been such a good idea to leave those 
two alone up there.
"Um, anyway," Cordelia said, tearing her eyes 
away from the leather jacket and its wearer. 
"The other guy is shorter, wearing glasses, 
and oh my god! He just kissed Willow!"
"What?!" Xander demanded, tearing his 
binoculars away from the vision in silver to 
focus on the doorway. It was true though, 
Willow was kissing this guy, and there was no 
sign of coercion that he could see. What the 
hell was going on here?
"She doesn't look too unwilling to me," 
Cordelia observed, echoing Xander's thoughts. 
"In fact, she looks kinda into it."
As they watched, Willow pulled away from the 
young man and spoke to all of the other 
people in the room while setting a little 
sign of yellow construction paper on an empty 
folding table.
			*			*		
	*
"Willow, think about who's coming tonight. Do 
you really think that's going to work?" 
Samantha asked, reading the very polite, 
"Please place all weapons here. Thank you and 
Happy Holidays!" sign.
Willow shrugged. "Of course not. But it's 
good to be polite. Now, this goes for all of 
you too," she said sternly. "I'll start." She 
took out the gun Alex had given her after she 
had finished his make-shift arms training 
course and placed it on the table. "Now all 
of you."
			*			*		
	*
"Willow has a gun! What is Willow doing with 
a gun?" Xander questioned no one in 
particular, sounding like his world had just 
been turned upside down. As Xander watched, 
absorbed, the girl in silver hitched up her 
dress a little more and removed two guns from 
holsters hidden cleverly by her thighs.
"Whoa," Cordelia said admiringly. "I wouldn't 
have thought there was room under there for 
those."
"Yeah," Xander replied, not able to verbalize 
anything more complicated.
As they watched, she pulled a knife from a 
sheath hidden on the under-side of her right 
wrist, then last, a garrote wire that she had 
twisted around the bracelet on her left 
wrist. "Goodness," Cordelia said, taken a bit 
aback at the display of firepower. "She 
seemed like a sweet girl."
"REPORT!" Methos yelled, completely fed-up 
with their uninformative banter. How the hell 
was he supposed to run a sensitive undercover 
operation with these...these...children?
"Oh!" Xander said, rubbing his ear. "Well, it 
looks like Willow is taking everyone's 
weapons and putting them on a table. Whoever 
these people are, they're dangerous. I've 
never seen so much firepower concentrated on 
one person in my life," he said. "The guy in 
the leather jacket is still disarming 
himself. I've lost count of how many guns 
he's pulled out."
"Five," Cordelia cut in quickly. "Oh, no 
wait, there's six. Plus two knives, brass 
knuckles, and something that looks like a 
little cylinder. Willow looks puzzled over 
that one too. Oh, that's what it does," she 
said as he pushed a button, and a thin blade 
popped out under Willow's nose. The redhead 
jumped in surprise, then smacked him on the 
arm, both of them laughing as he placed the 
obscure weapon on the table with the rest.
"It looks like the guy with glasses doesn't 
have anything," Xander reported in turn. 
"Buffy and Amanda are still undetected."
"If we could move things along, possibly?" 
Giles said, gritting his teeth. "I'm not 
going to be able to keep this shielding spell 
up indefinitely."
"We wait until they settle, then catch them 
off guard," Methos decided. "For now, 
everyone hold their positions. Once everyone 
is disarmed and seated at the table, our 
chances for success will be much better."
"AH!" Xander yelped. "She's kissing him 
again!"
			*			*		
	*
Willow pulled away from Birkoff with a smile. 
"I knew there was a reason I loved you," she 
said as an answer to the fact that he didn't 
have any weapons. "You're probably my only 
guest who didn't come armed to the teeth."
"Ah, but I have Alex," pointed out Birkoff.
"Good point." She smiled again, then handed 
her boyfriend a box of matches. "Would you 
start lighting the candles around the room?"
He took them and started his task just as the 
doorbell rang again. Willow opened the door 
and squealed in delight when she saw Walter, 
throwing herself into his arms. "Walter!" She 
exclaimed. "Hi!"
"Hi Pumpkin," he said. She pulled away from 
him and pointed at the sign, and he 
immediately pulled out two guns and handed 
them to her, and was rewarded with a bright 
smile.
A timer went off and Samantha cried, 
"Turkey's done!"
The other guests watched, somewhat surprised 
at the exuberant behavior the normally grim 
girl displayed as she bounced into the 
kitchen to pull out the main course for their 
dinner. She was smiling brightly, and seemed 
totally unrestrained in her behavior.
"What's up with her?" Alex whispered as soon 
as she was out of earshot.
"She's a little...hyper. I made some Christmas 
cookies last night," Willow explained, 
indicating a tray set out, half filled with 
cookies. "Samantha over-indulged a bit. I 
don't think she's ever experienced a sugar 
rush before," she finished, shaking her head 
at all the aspects of life Sam had missed out 
on.
A soft knock was heard at the door, and 
Nikita moved to answer it, smiling softly as 
Michael stepped in, his usual inscrutable 
expression in place.
"Hi Michael! I'm glad you could make it. 
There is one rule, though," Willow said, 
pointing out the sign on the table, and 
refusing to be intimidated when he fixed her 
with his dead, blank stare. He looked over at 
Nikita when she drove her elbow sharply into 
his side, then sighed, pulling a gun out of a 
shoulder holster and laying it on the table.
"The other ones too," Willow said pleasantly, 
not budging an inch. Reluctantly, Michael 
began pulling guns from hiding places on his 
body, everyone slowly turning to look as the 
pile on the table grew. Walter shook his head 
in exasperated amusement, Alex smirked, and 
Samantha just observed, looking like she was 
taking mental notes.
Finally Michael stopped, having removed every 
weapon imaginable. "Satisfied?" He asked 
Willow expressionlessly.
"Thank you!" She said, not letting him put a 
dent in her good mood. "Dinner's almost 
ready, and there are some cookies on the 
table if you want to nibble on something."
Michael looked almost affronted at the word 
nibble. Nikita just rolled her eyes and 
dragged him off, leaning on his arm.
			*			*		
	*
"Glad that's over," Cordelia said. "Was that 
guy scary or what?"
"What do you mean was?" Xander asked, 
sounding a little worried. "He still is. Did 
you see his face? He looks like a zombie or 
something."
"You don't think he is, do you?" Cordelia 
asked, sounding a little worried.
"No, Cordelia," Xander said impatiently. "It 
was just a figure of speech."
"Willow's going to the door again. It looks 
like more guests are coming," Cordelia said, 
changing the subject.
Two people entered this time, one a tall, 
well-dressed man in a business suit, the 
other, a much shorter, red-haired woman who 
had a very brisk way of moving. Willow 
greeted them with a smile, and Xander noticed 
that these two seemed more uncomfortable in 
their surroundings than the others. They were 
also dressed much differently.
"Those guys are Feds," Amanda said quietly 
into her communicator.
"How do you know?" Buffy asked, looking at 
the two new arrivals and trying to see where 
Amanda could tell that they were specifically 
federal agents.
"Experience," Amanda said confidently.
"Will you two shut-up!" Giles said, sweating. 
"It becomes twice as hard to cover your 
presence if I have to draw away the sound as 
well."
Buffy opened her mouth to apologize, then 
thought better of it, exchanging a guilty 
glance with Amanda. The small woman pulled 
her single gun out of her holster without 
batting an eyelash, but the man with her was 
not nearly so complacent.
"He does not look happy," Cordelia stated as 
they watched the agent make emphatic, angry 
gestures.
			*			*		
	*
"There's no way I'm giving you my gun!" 
Mulder said with vehemence. "Like I'd go 
unarmed in the presence of that assassin!"
"Agent Mulder!" Willow said sternly. "This is 
going to be a nice, non-aggressive party, 
with no weapons. If you can't abide by that 
simple rule, then you can wait outside. And 
there will be no insults in my home! If you 
can't behave and keep your temper, I don't 
want you here at all. Everyone else has 
disarmed themselves, now you can do us all 
the same courtesy."
"You're embarrassing me," Scully hissed, 
glaring at him.
Finally, it was the disappointment and 
disgust he saw in Samantha's face at his 
behavior that convinced him. Feeling vaguely 
ashamed and foolish, he handed over his gun.
"And the other one?" Willow asked politely.
Grumbling, Mulder pulled out the gun he kept 
hidden in his ankle holster and reluctantly 
set it on the table with the others. "Thank 
you," Willow said, looking at the table that 
was loaded to the brim with artillery. 
Shaking her head, she walked across the room. 
"Walter, could you go in and carve the 
turkey?"
Walter paused. "I haven't carved a turkey in 
forty-odd years, Pumpkin."
Sighing, Willow turned to the only sure 
thing. "Agent Mulder? Would you mind 
terribly?"
Glad to have something to get himself away 
from the crowd, Mulder followed his sister 
into the kitchen. Willow and Nikita came in a 
few moments later, grabbing dishes and 
setting them onto the table.
"Willow?" Birkoff asked.
"Yes?"
"Where should we put the presents?"
"Oh, right! Under the tree is fine."
There was a sudden scurry as everyone in the 
room headed towards the tree at the same 
time, and Willow laughed at their ridiculous 
behavior. After Alex had finished placing his 
presents under the tree, he came up to her. 
"Need some help?"
"It would be nice. Just help us bring out the 
food. Birkoff, would you get everyone 
seated?"
Willow discovered that there were definite 
advantages to working in a government 
organization-almost everyone did what they 
were told without complaint and with a 
minimum of confusion. Fifteen minutes later, 
everyone was seated around the table with 
plates full of food, with only the 
occasional, "Pass the gravy" or "Where'd the 
rolls get to?" breaking the contented silence 
of people eating good food.
			*			*		
	*
"Should we move now?" MacLeod asked Methos.
"Not yet," Methos said, waiting for the right 
moment. "They're still too close to that huge 
pile of weapons for my comfort. We'll wait 
until they move away from the table and into 
the living room by the tree before we strike. 
That way it will be much less likely that one 
of them will be able to reach a weapon before 
we have them covered."
"That turkey looks really good," Xander said 
wistfully, while Cordelia rolled her eyes at 
him.
			*			*		
	*
"My God, I couldn't eat another bite," 
groaned Walter as he leaned back in his 
chair.
"Did you like the stuffing?" Asked Samantha 
eagerly. "I made that stuffing all by 
myself!"
"Yes, we know Sam. And it was very good 
stuffing," said Willow, humoring her.
All together, the meal had turned out very 
well, despite the fact that the two chefs had 
mostly been working on a trial and error 
process. Fortunately, Samantha's experience 
with following mission profiles could be 
transferred to following a recipe. The pastry 
the ambitious girl had attempted turned out a 
little lopsided, but everyone agreed that it 
was very tasty despite this.
"Present time!" Exclaimed Willow, jumping up 
from the table and dragging Birkoff behind 
her, cranking up the stereo and making him 
dance with her while they waited for everyone 
to move away from the table. Soon everyone 
had straggled into the living room and found 
seats, whether on furniture or on the floor. 
Willow began to pass out the presents, and 
even the most serious person present couldn't 
resist the allure of the gaily-wrapped 
presents.
"Here," Willow said shyly, as she handed 
Birkoff the present she had picked out for 
him.
"Thanks," Birkoff said, as he tore off the 
paper and opened the box hidden within, 
revealing a brand-new pair of ice skates. 
Birkoff felt a strange emotion welling up 
inside of him at the present that she had 
obviously given a lot of thought to.
"I thought maybe we could go skating some 
more?" Willow said, looking at him tenderly.
"Thank you so much," Birkoff said, hugging 
her tightly. "I have a present for you too."
Willow opened the small box, and gasped when 
she saw the beautiful bracelet nestled 
inside. "It's gorgeous!"
"I had it fitted to your size," Birkoff 
explained, taking it out of the box to put it 
on her wrist. "I added something special 
though. If you press down here, in this spot, 
it will emit a signal that I'll be able to 
trace from anywhere. In case you ever get 
into trouble and need help."
"Oh, Birkoff," Willow said softly, trying 
hard not to burst into tears. "This means so 
much to me! Thank you."
Willow and Birkoff were not the only couple 
experiencing a tender moment. All around the 
room, people were hugging and opening 
presents, laughing at their contents. Scully 
watched quietly, until to her great surprise 
Mulder presented her with a wrapped box. 
"Mulder, what's this?"
"Your present?"
She sent him a patented Scully look. "You 
never give me presents."
He shrugged. "Scully, I'm at a party with 
Alex Krycek, having a good time. If that can 
happen, anything can happen."
She grinned and opened the box, giving him a 
confused look when she saw the small golden 
chain resting in the cotton. Mulder said, 
"It's for your cross. You've lost the thing 
so many times that I figured you'd need a 
gold-plated titanium chain to keep it 
securely around your neck."
Scully wasn't sure what to say in response to 
this, so she just took her necklace off and 
switched the chains, smiling at Mulder when 
she had finished. It was such a thoughtful 
gift, and Scully couldn't speak for a moment, 
just wordlessly handed him the present she 
had selected for him. Mulder smiled 
conspiratorially at her, looking like a 
little boy surrounded by discarded wrapping 
paper and ribbons.
When he saw what was inside, he looked 
questioningly at her, as confused about her 
gift as she had been about his. Inside the 
paper was an ashtray. Now, he loved the 
motif, with a little green alien head inlaid 
in the center, but he still didn't really get 
the point.
"Scully," Mulder said, hoping for an 
explanation. "I don't smoke."
"I know," she said, smiling widely at him. 
"It's for your sunflower seeds. You leave the 
husks of those things everywhere. It's 
disgusting. Maybe this will help you keep 
that under control."
The two agents smiled at each other, sharing 
a friendly embrace, and turning to look at 
what kind of presents the people around them 
would be getting. Michael was tricky to shop 
for, but Walter had selected the perfect 
present for him.
"It's the newest model," Walter explained to 
him proudly. "Automatic focus on the scope, 
manual option of an activated laser aim, 
converted barrel for maximum firing 
capabilities, quick-loading ammunition 
cartridges, and even a grenade-launching 
attachment," Walter finished with a flourish, 
leaving Michael to explore the new 
capabilities on his own.
Meanwhile, Nikita was holding up what 
appeared to be a stuffed cow and shooting 
Willow a very befuddled look. "Just so you 
know what you're killing with leather as your 
main wardrobe supplement," Willow explained 
from across the room. "I mean, I like the 
stuff too, but the trick is moderation."
Nikita couldn't help but laugh. Right then, 
Samantha launched herself across the room 
towards Willow's head. "You...AH!" She 
screamed, holding her present. Willow 
laughed.
"I thought you should have a copy," Willow 
explained. "Got it framed and everything."
Samantha took a deep breath and tried to calm 
down as she stared at the picture of herself 
being broadsided by an old lady and a bag of 
oranges.
"What is it?" Walter asked curiously.
"Nothing!" Samantha shouted quickly, 
clutching the picture to her chest, 
determined that no one would ever see this. 
"Wait a minute...what do you mean, a copy?"
"Well, I kept the original for myself," 
Willow explained sweetly. "If you behave, no 
one ever need see it."
"Why you..."
"Yes? You had something to say?" Willow 
asked.
"Nothing," Samantha grumbled.
"I thought so," Willow said smugly. "Did you 
see the other one?"
Samantha looked at Willow suspiciously for a 
moment, then checked the box. There was 
another photograph inside, this one of the 
two girls standing together at the Tower of 
London, smiling and leaning on each other.
"Thank you," she said simply.
"You're welcome," Willow responded, reaching 
out to Samantha and pulling her close for a 
hug. Samantha extracted herself from the 
embrace as soon as she could, and went back 
to where she had been sitting a few minutes 
before.
Mulder looked up, surprised, as a present 
landed in his lap. Seeing Krycek standing in 
front of him, grinning at him, he was not 
reassured. "Will it explode?" Mulder asked 
sarcastically.
"Don't be ridiculous, Mulder," Alex said 
scathingly. "I'm standing in the blast radius 
of any effective bomb. If you're going to 
have paranoid delusions, at least be rational 
about them."
"Right," Mulder said, a half-smile on his 
face. "Poisoned needle then."
"Now you're thinking."
Mulder opened the present slowly, raising his 
head to glare at Krycek when what was inside 
was revealed. Alex saw the glint of amusement 
in his eyes, though, and laughed at the 
indignant look on the agent's face.
"I thought you could use a new pair," Alex 
explained, laughing softly to himself as he 
strolled away.
Mulder transferred his glare to the shiny new 
pair of handcuffs. When Scully leaned over 
him to see what it was, she burst into loud, 
unrestrained laughter. Mulder was sorry he 
had given in and explained the whole handcuff 
story to her now, as she was clearly enjoying 
this way too much.
As everyone else was finishing opening their 
last few presents, Willow checked under the 
tree one more time, pulling out a medium 
sized box and frowning. "That wasn't there 
before," she muttered. When she checked who 
it was for, she became even more confused. 
The only thing written on the tag was the 
name Alexei.
"This one is labeled with your name, Alex," 
Willow said as she handed him the box. "It 
doesn't say who it's from, though."
Looking around at everyone in turn, they each 
shook their heads in denial as he met their 
eyes. Looking a little disturbed, he opened 
the box, shocked speechless at what was 
inside.
"A stuffed animal?" Willow asked, not sure 
why someone would anonymously send Alex an 
old, ragged stuffed bear.
"It was my favorite toy as a child," Alex 
said quietly, too soft for anyone besides 
Walter and Willow to hear, who were sitting 
on either side of him. "I lost it when the 
terrorists grabbed me when I was six. A few 
weeks later, Section liberated me from them, 
and I began my training there, someone 
deciding that a child raised from a young age 
would make a more effective operative later. 
I don't know where this could have come 
from."
Seeing the almost scared look in Alex's eyes, 
Walter almost regretted doing as Madeline had 
asked and slipping the present in with the 
others. He supposed she had a right to give 
it to him if she wanted, however, and knew 
that it wasn't his place to interfere. 
Luckily, Willow had also noticed the deeply 
disturbed look on Alex's face and had taken 
action, placing the toy back in the box and 
pulling him off of the floor. "I need a 
dancing partner," she said. "Birkoff tries, 
but he just doesn't get the rhythm of the 
Russians."
After a few moments, Alex was twirling and 
spinning a laughing Willow around the room, 
the strange gift temporarily forgotten. 
Walter wondered off-handedly how that little 
girl managed to do things like that, then 
forgot the situation himself as he saw 
Samantha watching the other couples dancing 
from the corner with interest. "Wanna take a 
spin around the dance floor with an old man?" 
He asked the girl, and she slowly took his 
hand and followed him to the middle of the 
room.
			*			*		
	*
"Am I the only one noticing that all these 
people are extremely buff?" Asked Cordelia 
absent-mindedly.
"I don't see anything special," Xander said 
in a deliberately off-handed tone of voice. 
"My build is at least as good as anyone 
there."
"Oh, sure," Cordelia scoffed. "Maybe in your 
fantasies. I'm talking about real life here. 
Heck, Willow has a better build than you."
"Actually, Willow's got a really good build. 
She's all muscle. When did that happen?"
"I don't know, but I know that even her 
slightly computer-geek looking boyfriend has 
more muscle than you do."
"Would you two please stop the running 
commentary and say something useful?" Methos' 
voice said.
"Oh, right. Well, they seem to have finished 
opening presents and are all dancing around 
the mess. It's actually really cute."
"Good," Methos said. "The music might cover 
our entrance long enough to get everything 
under control. We're going to move up to the 
door of the apartment. Amanda, Buffy, get 
ready to move from your end. Xander and 
Cordelia, let us know if the situation 
changes at all."
Xander and Cordelia exchanged worried 
glances, then concentrated on the scene in 
the other apartment.
			*			*		
	*
Skinner was getting fed-up with sitting out 
in this car with these babbling idiots who 
refused to shut-up. He sat in he driver's 
seat, having taken over the car over the 
grumbles of the Gunmen earlier. He adjusted 
the focus of his field binoculars at the 
apartment that Mulder and Scully had entered 
several hours ago once more, and sighed with 
disgust.
"This is a waste of time!" Skinner said. 
"It's a Christmas party. There's nothing 
wrong here, and I suggest in the future, you 
gentlemen try to keep your paranoid ramblings 
away from my office!"
"But...we know there's something going on 
here!" Langley insisted.
"I'm telling you, there's no secret 
government agencies at work here, no 
conspiracy to cover up the truth, and nothing 
at all to do with aliens. I get enough of 
that having to deal with Mulder at work, I 
don't need you dragging it into my vacations 
as well."
"But..." Frohike began, interrupted at once by 
Skinner.
"No! There is absolutely nothing sinister 
going on here!" Skinner began, getting warmed 
up for a really good tirade, when movement in 
the corner of his eye caught his attention. 
"What the..."
Five men dressed in gear suitable for combat, 
several armed, began to stealthily enter the 
apartment complex.
"Ha!" shouted Byers triumphantly. "We knew 
it!"
"Oh, shut up," Skinner growled, pulling out 
his side arm and exiting the car quietly. 
"Come on, we've got to get into position to 
help them."
The three men looked at him wide-eyed. 
"What?" Byers asked, startled. "We can't go 
in there, those guys have guns!"
"Exactly! And two of my agents are in there 
right now being stalked by those men with 
guns. Now come on!" At Skinner's commanding 
bark, the Gunmen scurried out of the car, and 
huddled together tightly as they followed 
Skinner into the building.
			*			*		
	*
Birkoff spun Willow past the ornamental 
screen in the corner and for the third time 
that night, Willow shivered. If she didn't 
know any better, she'd say there was a weird 
energy coming from that screen. But every 
time she convinced herself to check it out, 
she'd laugh at her own paranoia and continue 
dancing. Still, it was kind of strange...
Her wandering thoughts were interrupted as 
with a loud crash, the door burst open in 
mid-song, and armed men poured through it, 
training their weapons on the people dancing 
within. Two people also emerged from behind 
the large ornamental screen in the corner, 
armed with what appeared to be a crossbow and 
a set of throwing knives. Before the armed 
attackers could even blink, however, Alex had 
launched himself into a low, rolling 
somersault that propelled him straight across 
the room to the weapons table, grabbing a gun 
and throwing it to Nikita, then taking one 
for himself. He was slightly shocked when he 
realized that Willow also had gotten a hold 
of a gun that had flown across the room into 
her hands. Michael also had a gun in hand, 
produced from God-knows-where on his body. 
Both sides seemed to be yelling things like 
"Stand down!" and "Put away your guns!" 
Samantha, who had been near the screen when 
the assault began, lashed out with her foot 
in a blindingly fast move, kicking the 
crossbow out of one of their attacker's 
hands, sending it flying into her own grasp. 
Sam looked at the strange weapon in the midst 
of the chaos with utter confusion. What had 
she been planning to do with this?
When both sides realized that neither had the 
advantage, silence fell over the group. 
Willow took the silence to turn to Michael, 
who was nearby, and mutter briefly, "How many 
guns do you carry?"
"Enough," was his short reply.
Turning back to the strangers in her 
apartment, Willow took a good look at them, 
then stopped in confusion. "Wait a sec..." She 
turned the safety on her gun, then lowered 
it. "Buffy?!"
At the girl's nod, Willow smiled, then 
frowned again, still confused. "What in the 
hell are you doing here and why are you 
pointing weapons at my friends?"
"We came to rescue you," Buffy said 
petulantly, still rubbing her wrist and 
glaring at the elegant girl who had disarmed 
her so efficiently. "These people kidnapped 
you!"
Willow laughed, then realized that her 
Section friends were staring at her. "You 
know these people?" Alex asked finally.
Willow nodded. "Most of them at least. Go 
ahead and put down your weapons. They won't 
hurt you."
No one moved, though, and Willow began to 
worry a little. "These people are pointing 
guns at us. Among other weapons," Alex 
acknowledged. "You can't just expect us to 
blindly trust them."
"No, what was I thinking?" Willow muttered to 
herself. "Come on guys, someone has to put 
their weapons down, or we'll be here all 
night."
The standoff continued, and Willow began to 
get annoyed. Why did these people have to be 
so damn stubborn? She glared at both sides, 
putting on her best resolve face. "I want 
both sides to put down their weapons right 
now, before I get very, very angry," she said 
in a low, menacing tone. "Or I won't be 
responsible for what I do."
Both sides eyed each other warily, neither 
willing to give up their advantage, not sure 
what the other side had planned. Willow 
sighed. "Fine then, be that way." Reaching 
inside herself, she grabbed a hold of all of 
the weapons in the room with her mind and 
threw them up to the ceiling, holding them 
there with relative ease. "There now, that's 
better. Back to explanations. What's this 
about me being kidnapped?"
"These idiots here had some kind of lame-
brained plan to rescue you, Red," Spike's 
mocking voice was heard from behind Riley 
where he had hidden himself. "I had nothing 
to do with it."
"Why you back-stabbing little..." Riley trailed 
off, not able to come up with a bad enough 
insult. Willow grinned as she heard Spike's 
distinctive voice, though, glad for someone 
who was a little less emotionally involved in 
the situation.
"Rescue me from what? My life?" She asked, 
genuinely curious. "And how did you even come 
to the conclusion that I was alive? Didn't I 
blow up?"
"Cordelia had a vision, but that's not 
important now," Buffy said dismissively, 
ignoring the indignant squeak in her ear. 
"What is your problem anyway? We worked hard 
to figure this all out and get here to save 
you. You'd think you could show a little 
gratitude."
"What are you talking about?" Samantha said 
with hostility in her voice. "Willow has a 
good life here with us. Besides which, even 
if we were holding her against her will, 
she's more than capable of taking care of 
herself and wouldn't need you incompetents to 
save her."
"Why you..." Buffy growled, advancing towards 
Samantha.
"Oh, yeah," Samantha growled back. "Let's go, 
Blondie."
"Samantha, Buffy," Willow glared at both of 
them, trying to hide her distress. "Knock it 
off." Turning back to Buffy, she said, "She's 
right though. I do have a good life here, and 
I don't need you to rescue me. Don't get me 
wrong, I'm happy to see you and everything, 
except that now you're probably all really 
screwed, but you should have left things 
alone."
"Willow, what are you saying?" Buffy asked, 
sounding confused. "We came to bring you back 
home, where you belong. I don't know what 
these people have done to you, but it's 
obviously affected your judgement. Now, come 
on, let's go, stop being such a baby and let 
us take care of this."
"Oh, she's not going to take that well," 
Xander muttered to Cordelia.
Xander was right. Willow's face was already 
getting a very strange look on it. 
"You...you...prokleenaht nyegodyay! Prostitootka! 
Styerva! Yob tvoyu mat!"
"Um, I don't think that's physically 
possible," Methos pointed out, while Alex was 
beaming at Willow proudly. Looks like all 
those pronunciation lessons had finally come 
in handy.
"Sure it is, it's just really gross," Angel 
chimed in. "I didn't know you spoke Russian, 
Willow."
The redhead blushed when she realized people 
besides Alex understood the string of really 
dirty expletives she had been yelling at her 
old friend. "It's um, a recent development," 
she muttered. She turned back to Buffy, her 
anger returning. "I'm not a child Buffy, and 
I don't need you to take care of anything for 
me! I don't know who you think you are, 
bursting into my life after practically six 
months and treating me like the same helpless 
girl you always thought I was, but surprise, 
I'm not about to sit here and take your 
patronization anymore!" Sighing, she softened 
her tone. "I realize that you probably had 
good intentions, but you have no idea what 
you've stumbled into here."
"Um, is it an ultra-secret anti-terrorist 
organization called Section One that is 
responsible for stopping terrorist attacks in 
all corners of the world that would stop at 
nothing to keep it's existence a secret, thus 
putting all of us in terrible, mortal danger? 
Am I close?" Methos asked, keeping a straight 
face as jaws dropped around the room. Only 
Michael and Alex managed to give nothing 
away, but they had more practice than anyone 
else there from Section.
"Ok," Willow acknowledged, "I guess you do 
know what you've stumbled into."
"But if that's the case, why in the hell were 
they foolish enough to come?" Asked Nikita.
"We couldn't just let these people get away 
with taking Willow captive," Xander's voice 
was heard from near the door, slightly out of 
breath from the run up the stairs with Giles 
and Cordelia. "We had to make sure she was 
alright once we found out she was alive."
"And you've probably been watching the entire 
evening, right? Now, honestly, did I look to 
be in any sort of danger? I was dancing. I'm 
sure that's a lethal activity, and that's why 
you decided to try and burst in here like 
cowboys on steroids, right?" Willow said 
sarcastically, coming close to yelling.
"I don't know!" Xander yelled back. "We just 
had to be sure, ok? We thought you were dead, 
Wills! Do you know how that felt?"
She stared at him for a moment, then smiled. 
"I guess not," she admitted softly. "But it 
still wasn't a very well thought out plan."
"Hey!" Methos said indignantly.
Just then, Skinner and the Lone Gunmen burst 
into the room. "FBI! Freeze!" Skinner yelled. 
"I've got a gun!"
"What else isn't new?" Willow muttered, 
mentally taking away his gun too. He stepped 
all the way into the room in surprise, 
followed closely by the Lone Gunmen, and 
suddenly there was a blinding flash of light 
and a loud noise. Several people cried out, 
and when everyone opened their eyes they 
found that they were no longer in the 
apartment they had been standing in only a 
moment before. Now, they were standing in 
what appeared to be an expensive lawyer's 
office, blank white walls ending about ten 
feet up with nothing but stars above them. A 
large wooden desk was in front of the group, 
and behind this sat what could only be 
described as a quintessential lawyer, dressed 
in an Armani suit. The man appeared to be 
perfectly normal in every respect, until one 
looked at his eyes. Reflected in them could 
be seen a glittering expanse of stars, never-
ending and extending to infinity.
"Good evening," the man said calmly. "Now 
that you're all here, the game can begin."
Part Nine
Naturally, Methos was the first to recover. 
"What's going on here?" He asked the strange 
man.
"Patience. All will be explained. Please, 
have a seat," The man said, waving his hand 
as twenty-four chairs appeared in front of 
his desk in a large semi-circle. Everyone 
simply stared at him unblinkingly, not
moving a muscle.
"All will be explained?!" Exclaimed Mulder 
impatiently. "I want an explanation now!"
"You'll get one, Agent Mulder," the man 
responded, seemingly completely unaffected by 
the outburst. "I trust that when I have 
revealed everything, I will have convinced 
you as to my sincerity. Hopefully, I can be 
persuasive enough to satisfy even the 
skeptical Dr. Scully."
"How do you know our names?" Scully demanded, 
her stance aggressive in the face of this 
strange situation. "How did we get to this 
place? Last I knew, we were in Nikita's 
apartment, and had just been attacked by this 
rag-tag gang over there."
"I beg your pardon!" Methos cut in 
indignantly. "We were running a precise 
operation, and would have been in control in 
another second if Mr. Mysterious here hadn't 
zapped us to Never-Never Land and saved your 
American butts."
At this, the two groups faced off, glaring at 
each other. Skinner and the Lone Gunmen had 
joined Mulder's side, but were looking very 
confused and lost. Skinner in particular was 
glaring at Alex Krycek with a mixture of rage 
and bafflement crossing his face. Alex and 
Michael both looked vaguely insulted.
"American?!" Alex said, as Michael nodded 
emphatically in agreement. "I hardly think 
so!"
"Enough!" An authoritative voice boomed out, 
and the room immediately fell into a 
respectful silence in response. There had 
been an echo of power in the voice that came 
from behind the desk, and no one dared to 
challenge it. "This petty squabbling will 
stop now. All of you will be on the same side 
from now on. Either you will learn to work 
together smoothly as a unit and trust each 
other, or the universe as you know it will 
come to an abrupt and violent end."
At that statement, the man's mouth curved up 
slightly into an ironic smile, as if he knew 
exactly how impossible that would be to the 
people gathered together in the room. 
Although the initial response of those 
listening had been to scoff at the dramatic 
statement, something in his voice held their 
attention, and made it impossible to doubt 
the truth of it.
"Now that I have your attention..." He said, 
in a very sarcastic tone of voice. "There are 
a few things that will need to be explained. 
To begin with, I suppose I should tell you 
the rules. During the game, there will be 
specific boundaries. Any attempt to cross 
these boundaries will result in penalties for 
your entire team. Your home base will be 
determined when you arrive at your 
destination, and the opposing team will have 
similar base facilities. There will be a 
clear chain of command. All battles will take 
place only on the designated board. In a 
moment, handicaps and bonuses will be dealt 
with. In the meantime..."
"Ummm," a diffident voice was heard, 
interrupting the speaker. "Question?"
Everyone stared, as Willow sat up straight in 
her chair, hand raised respectfully. Everyone 
else shifted restlessly in their chairs, the 
spell of his voice broken. Suddenly, they 
were wondering why they were listening to 
this crackpot. The impeccably dressed man 
raised his eyebrows in a mix of surprise and 
amusement. 
"Yes?"
"Ummm, I don't mean to seem like I haven't 
been paying attention or anything, but...what 
are you talking about?"
"I thought I had made that clear," he 
responded, a touch of impatience entering his 
voice. "The group of you will be my 
representatives in a contest. You will be 
facing an equally skilled and resourceful 
group of opponents, who are the 
representatives of my counterpart. At the 
moment, the universe exists in a state of 
chaos due to the actions of a certain 
individual."
At this point in his recital, the man paused 
to glare at Methos, who just stared back at 
him, completely lost, but troubled by strange 
stirrings of recognition inside himself. "As 
I was saying, right now, existence is torn 
between two opposite forces, Good and Evil. 
These forces are in direct competition and 
every day, the same battle is fought. But 
that is not how it was supposed to be.
"You see, when the universe was created, it 
was at the whim of one being who already 
existed, and quite frankly, was bored. So, in 
a giant explosion of matter, this being sat 
back to watch creation take shape. After the 
initial blast, this entity did not interfere 
in things, instead, only observing the 
planets and stars take shape. When the amino 
acids actually combined in the precise 
sequence necessary to create life, the 
watching entity was as surprised as anyone. 
Only on this planet did that unlikely chain 
of events take place, and its attention was 
held, spellbound, as more and more complex 
life forms began to emerge. It seemed like 
only a metaphorical blink of the eye had 
passed to the ageless being, but soon, 
upright creatures had begun to shamble across 
the earth.
"It was very soon afterwards, that an event 
occurred which rocked the cosmos. A new 
creature emerged, a completely different form 
of life, unlike anything that had ever 
existed before. This was the first human 
being. Suddenly, there was a creature that 
had the capacity of thought necessary to 
reach depths of awareness none other could 
fathom. This being possessed, and first time 
understood the potential of free-will, and 
with this capacity, there came into 
existence, the concepts of Good and Evil. At 
this point, the being who had watched the 
proceedings with great interest, was split. 
This entity had never been formed of 
substance, but of thought, energy, and most 
importantly, its own will. Suddenly, with 
these new thoughts, there were two wills, and 
these would be forever and irrevocably in 
conflict.
"Able to communicate, but by their own 
uncompromising natures unable to reach any 
sort of agreement, they decided that their 
existence could only be resolved by a 
competition. The loser would cease to exist, 
thus again leaving only one awareness 
behind."
"Wait a minute," Methos interrupted, rubbing 
his forehead. "Playing along for the 
moment...if humanity was such a problem, why 
were we allowed to keep on existing? Why not 
just blink us out?"
"You were allowed to exist, because it would 
have been impossible to do otherwise. Nothing 
can be obliterated without its own consent. 
And humanity has a very strong survival 
instinct. Especially you."
"I get the feeling you don't like me much. 
What did I ever do to you?"
"Don't you get it yet?" Alex asked, something 
close to awe in his voice.
"Get what?" Methos snapped, aware that he was 
missing something important, but not able to 
guess what it was. Everyone else in the room 
stared uncomprehending at Alex.
"You were the first."
"Well, the first that counted," Good 
corrected. "You were the one who had the 
capacity for what I have described to you. Of 
course, there were other upright walkers 
before you, but these were primitive 
creatures, and never had the understanding or 
morality that is present in modern humans. 
All others followed you."
"That's not possible," Methos protested. 
"Homo sapiens has been around for nearly 
30,000 years."
"I thought you were only 5,000?" Amanda 
asked, entering the conversation for the 
first time.
"I am."
"Well, we blurred things a bit for you and 
the other as well. An understanding had been 
reached between my opposite and I, and when 
the conditions had been met, we would take 
our representatives and decide matters once 
and for all. Things took a very long while to 
set up, however, and while we waited for 
everyone needed to arrive, you had to remain. 
As the one who unbalanced everything, it 
could only be through you that things would 
be set right. That many years would have been 
too many for even you to carry, however, so 
as time went by, I lifted the memories that 
would make it possible for you to go on. At 
the same time, Evil was doing the same thing 
to the other. As the people I was waiting for 
began to appear, they were preserved as well, 
either through the Immortality we had given 
to you, or some other means."
"Who is this 'other' you keep talking about?" 
Methos asked suspiciously.
"I was getting to that. It was decided that 
the opposing teams would be led by one who 
was completely good on the one side, and 
completely evil on the other. So, to satisfy 
both requirements, you were chosen by both 
sides to lead the teams. In essence, you were 
split. One, you, became the embodiment of all 
good. Your other half became your opposite, 
and represented all evil."
"How is that possible?" MacLeod asked, almost 
scornfully. "Methos has done terrible things. 
He killed thousands of people."
"First of all, you are going to have to lose 
that judgmental, superior attitude if you are 
going to advance to the final levels of the 
game. Second of all, Methos has never killed 
except in self-defense, which was a mechanism 
built into him so that he would be assured of 
surviving to today, or in defense of another 
that he cared about. It was his other half, 
closely connected to him that rode with the 
Four Horsemen and committed those atrocities. 
The two of them often touch glimpses of each 
other's minds, thus confusing both of them. 
We couldn't completely prevent these brushes, 
so they become false memories. Many memories 
that Methos believes are his own really come 
from the experiences of his other."
"So, when does the fighting begin? And who 
are these enemies that we are supposed to 
face?" Alex asked, as Methos seemed to 
withdraw into himself, trying to absorb 
everything he had been told.
"Funny you asked," Good said, with a sardonic 
twist to his lips. "We have an appointment to 
keep, right about...now."
			*			*		
	*
When the group reappeared, they found that 
their surroundings had changed once again. 
Instead of a lawyer's office, they now found 
themselves situated on a chessboard. As 
everyone blinked in confusion and tried to 
regain their bearings, they looked up to find 
another group ranged against them on the 
opposite side of the board looking just as 
confused as they did. 
The figure they had come to recognize as Good 
stood in the center row facing a mirror image 
of himself. Their clothes were the only 
things that differed. Both suits were black 
and white, but each piece was the opposite of 
the other. Where one jacket was white, the 
other was black, and so on throughout the 
outfit.
At first, the two crowds of people had not 
spent much time studying each other, but now, 
as they looked more closely at each other, 
people began to recognize familiar faces 
ranged against them. Alex growled softly in 
the back of his throat as he noticed his 
nemesis. The Smoking Man, for once caught 
without a cigarette, stood looking back at 
him, off-balance, but still surrounded by his 
customary cloud of menace. Another person he 
saw was Marita Covarrubias, the woman who had 
deceived him and almost gotten him killed by 
betraying him to the Consortium. 
Mulder and Scully, standing close together in 
uncertainty, only grew more confused as they 
absorbed who they would be fighting against. 
Scully scowled as she saw Agent Fowley, who 
was smirking at her. Mulder could not believe 
his eyes when he caught sight of the well-
manicured British man that he would have 
sworn had died in a car explosion.
Buffy was seeing familiar faces as well. The 
sinister form of Adam was recognized at once, 
and Buffy felt a thread of fear running 
through her at the thought of facing off 
against him. Turning away from him, she felt 
the inevitable blind rage course in her blood 
the sight of the rogue slayer. Faith was 
standing there with her usual contemptuous 
attitude, and as their eyes met, Buffy's eyes 
narrowed, while Faith's smile widened in 
appreciation of the contest that was to come. 
Buffy also glimpsed the dreamy but deadly 
vampire, Drusilla, and wondered how Angel 
would take this development. The last person 
she saw that she knew made her roll her eyes 
in annoyance. Ethan Raines never failed to 
turn their lives upside down, and Buffy was 
not looking forward to this encounter any 
more than any of the previous ones.
Nikita tried to keep herself from reacting 
when she saw Madeline and Operations standing 
among their enemies. She was not at all sure 
what reaction Michael would have to this. He 
had never been devoted to them, but obedience 
had been ingrained into him, and she hoped he 
would be able to handle their new status. 
George was also standing amongst the people 
at the other end of the board, and she glared 
at him. Ever since he had sent her on the 
suicide mission to kill Operations, who may 
or may not be her father, she could only look 
at him with hostility. She caught sight of 
another familiar pair, that she fondly 
referred to as the 'torture twins' in the 
privacy of her own thoughts. You never saw 
one without the other, and the level of their 
creepiness was immense, even in Section.
The bizarre figure they all noticed, however, 
was the twin of Methos who was standing 
opposite the Methos they all knew, staring at 
his other. The two of them just glared into 
each other's eyes, trembling with strain. 
Obviously, the close proximity was affecting 
them, and the watchers could not tell if they 
were shaking because they wanted to launch 
themselves at each other and tear each 
others' throats out or if they were keeping 
themselves from running away from the strange 
confrontation that was taking place. 
Good turned away from his double and toward 
his team. "The time has come for final touch-
ups to each team. First of all, the Wild Card 
players."
"Each team was designed for one more person, 
but they died before the appropriate time. 
Balance must be achieved; to this purpose we 
each claim an additional player."
Power radiated from each figure, each the 
same excepting the fact that one was darkness 
and one was light. As the waves of power met, 
two figures slowly materialized. MacLeod 
narrowed his eyes in disgust when he 
recognized the person who had joined the 
other side, his enemy Kronos. But his 
thoughts of malice were promptly interrupted 
by a high pitched scream and a figure rushing 
past him in a blur of expensive fabric and 
long brown hair. 
"DOYLE!" Cordelia screamed, throwing herself 
in the arms of her friend. The man, who 
seemed completely lost and dazed, slowly put 
his arms around her. 
"Um...good to see you too, Cordelia," he 
said, more than a little confused. 
"Uh...Angel?" He asked, catching sight of his 
old boss, who was actually smiling at the 
sight of him. "Would ye mind telling me 
what's going on?"
Angel was about to answer when Good 
interrupted impatiently. "Enough! Save this 
for a later time! There is more to be dealt 
with!"
Cordelia reluctantly stepped back, grasping 
Doyle's hand and dragging him back to the 
line. Good waited until they blended with the 
rest of the group, then said, "Now, because 
Kronos will exist at a higher level of play 
than Doyle, my side will make up the 
difference in another compensation to one of 
my players."
At this, Alex quickly tore off his prosthetic 
limb with a shout, and watched speechlessly 
as a new arm grew in place of the one he had 
lost in Russia. Flexing his arm, and 
clenching his fist in disbelief, he could 
only stare at his new arm in shock. Nikita 
ran up to him with a cry of joy, and held his 
hand with a huge smile, before throwing her 
arms around him in a big hug.
"Alex!" Willow shouted, eager to get the 
second hug in. "This is great!" 
"Yeah," Birkoff added, not as comfortable 
with words and emotions as Willow, but 
overjoyed that his surrogate brother was 
finally whole again.
"Just when I had gotten used to my fake arm 
too," Alex said jokingly, trying to hide his 
emotion. "I had just added the new custom-
made poisoned dart attachment."
"We can change it back if you'd like," Good 
cut in, smirking.
"Um, that's ok," Alex said quickly. "I'm sure 
I'll get used to it again somehow."
"Good. Now that that's settled, there is one 
more matter to deal with. There are two 
members of my team who are not yet acceptable 
in the forms that they currently hold. At the 
same time, two of my counterparts players are 
trapped in an alternate dimension, and will 
need to be brought across to this one."
Again, the glow emanated from the two 
figures, this time forming two columns of 
light on each side. On the good side, these 
columns formed over Angel and Spike, bathing 
them in soft, golden light. On the evil side, 
the two columns formed over empty spaces, and 
two figures appeared in their centers. As the 
light dissipated, two leather-clad creatures 
remained, and Xander and Willow stared as 
they saw their vampire doubles standing on 
the opposite side of the board. As the light 
disappeared from Angel and Spike, however, it 
took something from each of them with it. A 
darkness could be seen inside of the light, 
and as it vanished, a high-pitched demonic 
cry could be heard.
"The demonic sides of your nature have been 
removed. It no longer has any power over you. 
Your souls have been restored, this time with 
no conditions added. For the purposes of 
balance within this game, you will retain 
your vampire strength, but will no longer be 
vulnerable to the weaknesses of vampires, 
such as an aversion to sunlight, and 
vulnerability to the cross and holy water."
Angel, who had already been through several 
similar experiences, took it fairly well. 
Spike, on the other hand, was somewhat 
confused. "But...I'm all bloody soulful now?! 
Do I have to lurk and be a bloody poof like 
him?" Then, as he realized he wasn't being 
any different, he calmed down. "Oh. Never 
mind."
"Well, that just brings us to the last few 
things you need to know. First off, although 
you were created with a specific purpose in 
mind, that being Good or Evil, you all have 
the option of choosing your way," Good said.
"You are free to switch sides whenever you 
like during the game, but you must deal with 
the consequences of doing such that will most 
likely be inflicted upon you by your new 
teammates, for no matter what, you must play 
in the game," Evil finished.
"When we leave, this board will expand and 
bases will be set up on either side of the 
board. These are where you will train and 
rest. They are completely vulnerable, but in 
order to attack them you must make it through 
all of the obstacles in-between each base, 
including the center two rows, which are 
designated non-fighting zones between 
yourselves and are where we have free reign 
with you. These are the only areas we are 
allowed to interfere directly."
"If a person dies, the normal rules of chess 
apply. If you can get one member of your team 
to the opposite end of the board, you may 
regain one member of your team. This is the 
only way the dead will rejoin you," Evil 
finished up.
"The first-in-command of my team is Methos, 
and his lieutenant will be Alexei Krycek. All 
other positions will become apparent in good 
time."
"The leader of my team is also Methos, with 
Madeline as his second-in-command."
Both figures fell silent, and then Good said 
formally. "We wish you luck."
"Be assured that we are watching," added Evil 
before both of them disappeared. Just as 
suddenly, the board began to stretch and 
things began to grow on it. The opposing team 
fell out of sight and the group was left in 
front of a long, strange shaped building, 
wondering what to do.